


Family Friend

by hydratedbarnes



Series: Family Friend [1]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Age Gaps, Angst, Car Sex, Cheating, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingering, Older Bucky Barnes, Older Man/Younger Woman, Orgasm Denial, Secret affairs, Sexting, Unprotected Sex, blowjob, ruined orgasm, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25405921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydratedbarnes/pseuds/hydratedbarnes
Summary: in which your dad's best friend is many things, being a good fuck is one of them; but what happens when it turns into something more than you intended it to be?
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Rebecca Barnes, Reader/Male OC
Series: Family Friend [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952260
Comments: 19
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was initially posted on my tumblr (@wiensrsoldier) so if you want to read it there, go ahead, but im still posting the full series here. enjoy!

Your dad has many friends whom he’s introduced to you, almost everyone of them being fond of you since you were so little. But one of the many people you have met was your incredibly hot neighbour slash family friend, Bucky Barnes.

It was so wrong on many levels. You’ve known him as your best friend’s brother, Rebecca and your father’s close friend. You had met her in grade school, she was the new girl and next thing you knew, the both of you neared graduation with you a year older than her. It had also seemed that her brother and your father had grown a close friendship as well.

You never really found yourself taking in a liking to him until you were 17. It was a small crush you had, nothing much. But as you grew up, maybe it wasn’t just a small little infatuation. Every event your family threw, Bucky would be undoubtedly be there, looking good as always.

You’ve always found yourself getting weak for him, knees wobbly and butterflies fluttering in the depths of your stomach. God, you knew it was so wrong for wanting to get pounded by your father’s friend—which you may add, was incredibly older than you.

But you couldn’t help it when he’d find you staring at him, his lips curving into a innocent smile as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. He’ll usually lick his lips before rubbing the forest of hair on hair face then he’d be off. It was so taunting and sinful in such an innocent act. There were so many things that you wish he could do to you.

God, you wanted him to take you right here and there. Whispering the most sinful words into your ear as he pounds and ruins you, pushing you over the edge.

But your thoughts are quickly removed as you make the impulsive decision to give his, your best friend, sister a quick visit. She didn’t live far, you could possibly take the bus but the car would be better.

Which led you here, your fists rhythmically knocking on his door. You bit your lip as you waited for her answer. The sounds of footsteps seem to get louder as he nears the door. The door swings open revealing who you expected to be your friend was instead a fresh-out-of-the-shower Bucky. His hair wet and put into a small bun to remove the hair from his face, yet some strands were still able to escape and frame his beautiful face.

He wears a black fitted shirt, the fabric hugging his delicious biceps, and loose grey sweatpants that you want nothing but to be off.

He seems to be taken by your presence at his door but nevertheless, he always loved seeing you. Especially when you wore his favourite sundress, a nice pastel yellow with beautiful lace trimming on the neckline. “Hey,” he leans against the door frame.

“Parents are out. I got bored. Is Becca home?” you flash him a smile and he licks his lips in response. Bucky stands from the door frame and opens the door wider. “She’s out for her soccer practice. But you can come in, if you’d like.”

You take his offer, never really been properly alone with her brother except if Rebecca were in another room or if he were with you with your parents. So you walk in his home, which has become your second home since you’ve been here numerous times. You and Rebecca were close, much like your father and her brother. So it wasn’t a surprise when you’d pop in for a visit every once in a while. You hum as a response to his answer as he trails behind you.

“I just finished making pancakes, want some?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,”

Bucky pulls out two plates for the two of you, setting them up on the kitchen island. There’s already a stack of pancakes on the counter and a jar of delicious maple syrup.

Ready to dig in, you pour the brown syrup on your plate, somehow some of it spilling in your expose thigh. “Oops.” you smile at yourself and Bucky reaches for a towel. But you get there first, swiping the syrup from your thigh and licking it off your finger with an audible pop. With a cheeky smile, it sends a flush of warmth to his face and he has to let out a sigh.

“You have to stop that, Y/n.”

Theres a looks of faux innocence on your face as you set your chin on the top of your hands. Tilting your head in fake confusion.

“Stop what?”

Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face as he tries to compose himself in front of you. But he feels a hand snake up his thigh, his whole body freezing when he looks up and sees you. 

“I can’t, Y/n.”

“Why not?” It comes out more desperate than you intended it to be but you couldn’t care less as the lust takes over you.

“You’re my best friend’s daughter. It’ll be wrong.”

A finger twirls the piece of string that holds his sweatpants together, a small pout present on your lips as you look up at him.

“No one will have to know.” 

Then there’s a silence as you stare back into Bucky’s once blue now turned grey eyes. You can see how his gears are turning in his head and you push him as you take it a step further by tugging on his sweatpants. A quiet plead that finally makes his snap.

“Fuck it. Get on your knees.” And you do what exactly what he wants. Your knees slightly hurt from the kitchen tiles but nevertheless, all will be worth it.

As fingers hook underneath the waistband of his sweats, you pull his pants off along with his black boxers. His length and thickness almost make you choke on your own spit.

He’s big and thick. So deliciously perfect, you find yourself drooling for him. “Like it?” he asks, snapping you out of your self induced trance.

Love it

You nod and smile at him, your hands expertly holding on to him. You part your mouth for him and bring your lips down to his tip, giving it kitten licks. The sensation that your tongue brings makes Bucky throw his head back.

You take the liberty and take him deeper into your mouth until his tip hits the back of your throat. “Shit, Y/n.”

With him still in your mouth, you smile at the validation. Then you pull out again, then back down. It’s a repeated action that entices a moan from Bucky. His fingers buried in your tangled hair, pushing your head on to him.

The sounds of his moans and your wet mouth on him fills the room. If you weren’t so wet and turned on right now, you would’ve slapped yourself for blowing your dad’s best friend in his own kitchen. But right now, he was so fulfilling in your mouth.

“That’s it, baby.”

You can feel him close to finish by the way he twitches inside your mouth. You want him to finish in your mouth, swallow every drop of his juice. But Bucky has something else in mind.

“Stop,” he brings you up. You’re a little taken back by his actions, thinking maybe that he doesn’t want to do anything anymore. Looking up at him, you wait a few seconds to get a response. “I rather finish in you,”

A smirk and your legs feel a little shaky.

Yes, please

His fingers motion at you in a c’mere, and you follow him. Getting up to straddle him and ride his cock and when you do straddle him, Bucky stands up, his hands hold your ass as he brings the two of you to his couch.

As he plopped you down, he kneels over you between your legs. His hands pushing up your dress to your waist to get a view of the prominent wet spot on your red lacey panties. He smooths over your inner thigh, his eyes never leaving your underwear.

You moan out a beg, anything to get him to ruin you. He hears your request and fingers hook under the waistband of your undies, yanking them down with one swift motion. Fingers spread your folds and he’s indulging his fingers in your wetness; playing around with your folds as he occasionally teases your aching nub.

Bucky licks his own lips before taking in his fingers, the one he formerly had used to play with you. Licking them clean, he lets go with a pop and taps on your bottom lip. Wetness gathering on your mouth, you open for him and take his fingers in.

You hadn’t realized that he was still inside you, throbbing and twitching as a painful reminder. Your hips move to get a sense of pleasure but Bucky holds your hips down, stopping all administrations. “Baby, slow down,”

You gasp as he twitches again. He chuckled at your response to him, “Feels nice doesn’t it? Mmh?”

“D-daddy, you have to move,” you grip his wrist, as the tension beteeen your legs ache and grow.

Before he could answer, knocks echo throughout his empty walls. “Buck, have you seen Y/n?” your father’s voice makes Bucky pull out of you, still hard and red but nevertheless he’s able to hide his hard on.

You pull up your undies and readjust your dress, fixing your hair, you quickly make yourself presentable.

“Yeah, hold on,”

Bucky opens the door for his friend, a deceiving smile on his face. Your father reciprocates a inauspicious smile back, entering his friend’s home he spots you sitting on his couch; tv playing in the back.

You flash your smile at your father and one at Bucky as well. “Hi, daddy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when bucky finds y/n touching herself in the middle of the night, he does more than punish her for her actions.

It’d be one long week, you knew it. With the Barnes and Y/L/N family get together taking place at your family’s cottage, you knew you’d be fucked — literally and figuratively.

You still can’t phantom the fact that he was balls deep in you, ever still and making you a whining mess. The filthy thought alone makes your legs weak and head dizzy. It shouldn’t be a reoccurring thought but the scenario was too memorable to discard. Bucky promised that he was going to make you come and you were still waiting on that promise.

He would’ve done it a week ago if your dad didn’t become such a big cock block, knocking on his stupid door looking for you. You mentally cursed at him and wanted to leave but he stayed afterwards to enjoy a chat with Bucky. The audacity.

You would see him every now and then for the past week, his presence taunting you. He’s even gone so far to caressing your thigh under the table when he and Rebecca was over for dinner once. He leaned over you once your parents were at the sink and while Becca had excused herself to the bathroom. “You’re looking so fucking good tonight, Peach.” You could feel the smug grin on his face as he whispered into your ear with a dirty tongue. “Making me wanna bend you over this fucking table and show everybody how good you are.”

As if playing with you in front of your parents were enough, he had the audacity to tease you when you had a sleepover at his home to have another girls night with his sister. You could feel his dominant gaze on your back as he leans in your ear, his hot breath fanning over you. Thankful that Rebecca had gone to take a quick shower.

“I’ve got a million different ways to make you cum, Peach. It’d be so magical,” gasping at his sudden words, you try to ignore him and his advances yet they only worsen. “You’d be leaking and filled to the brim,” with the attempt to shush him, your words come out as a whimper. “I know you’d like that,”

“J - James - Bucky, stop, please,” you whisper yet you want to yell at him, more like yell for him. It shouldn’t be right to feel so drenched at his words. His hands rubbing circles on your thigh, inching with every stroke. He knew you were on his leash when you whimpered at the loss of touch.

Bucky knew the game he was playing, he knew you were a stubborn girl and there was no way that you were going to leave without a fight. That showed dearly at the cottage.

He watched you, very carefully. You teased him, wearing skirts with nothing under and skin-tight shirts with no bra. You had no thoughts of stopping, your one and only goal was to fuck with Bucky.

Or Bucky’s personal favourite, watching as your tits bounced when you played volleyball in your swimsuit with his younger sister, Rebecca. The frail piece of fabric doing absolutely nothing to support your breasts. He watched you, trying to not draw attention as he drank with your own father.

You can see him in the corner of your eyes, staring at you like prey, his lips red and swollen from biting them too much. You’d smile to yourself, the feeling of his eyes on you drenching your bikini.

It shouldn’t be right to be eye-fucking each other with your whole family watching. But that’s what Bucky’s been doing ever since you’ve arrived. And maybe what if you did want him to fuck you? Ruining you and stretching. Moaning into his ear as he hits deep in you.

The vivid memory return of him between your legs returns so many untouched desires only he could relieve.

-

And so what if you found yourself awake at nearly 3 AM in the morning, moaning into your pillow. It was a poor attempt to mask your pleasure. How could you resist? It was Bucky damn Barnes. He was an Adonis of a man, his thighs so fucking thick. The thought just urges you on. You were so close until your own door swings open. Your hand flying out of your PJs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Was all you could mentally say to yourself. Your mind racing through thoughts of who could it be but your questions were shortly answered as you heard the same voice that dripped with sex. “Were you just masturbating?” A growl from Bucky caused you to stutter on your words.

“N - No.”

He closed the door behind and locking it, with a gulp you looked up at him waiting for his next step. Clicking his tongue as he peers over you. Bucky tilts his head, eyes fucking your nipples through your shirt. He takes your hand, the one he caught deep in your undies, and shamelessly sucks two fingers in his mouth; letting go with a pop.

“Oh, Peach,” he shakes his head.

Fuck, fuck. FUCK!

“What were you thinking? Touching that pretty little pussy of yours. We both know that I’m the only one allowed to touch that,”

Too stubborn to give in, a scoff leaves your pretty face. But you weren’t gonna deny that your PJs were drenched. “You started it. It was only fair that I took care of it.” you submissively pout at him.

And despite the darkness in your room, Bucky’s eyed has never turned dark in his whole life. “Fair? You know what’s not fair? Not fair is having to watch you bounce your beautiful tits in front of me with your whole family around,”

Hands pinning your own above your head as he got on top of you. The bedsheets cascading down your bed and revealing your form. He stood between you, thick calves separating your legs. A giggle as you remember your fun, “You were so cute trying to hide your boner,”

Without warning, he cups your wet heat through your undies. He had no problem shutting you up because all words had left your tongue but a mere moan escaped. “Who’s looking cute now, Peach?” With continuous rubbing against your clothed heat, you grew impatient and resistant.

“Bucky, please, please,”

“Please, what?”

His administrations don’t stop and he’s not planning to until you beg and admit. Admit that you want this, want everything he has to offer because he knows you. Bucky knows your body, how it reacts to his touch. His power over your body relieves you and you know it but you’re just too stubborn to admit it.

“Is this want you to want? To be held like a brat and be punished? Because you’re looking cute like this, Peach,” his breath is hot on your neck, lips climbing down to where your collar bone meets your chest. He teases his tongue and teeth, the urge to make you his tempting him.

“No! No marks. Daddy will see,”

He growls and instead kisses your skin. Hip thrusting to his hand to create any friction because his isn’t cutting it and you knew he’s doing it on purpose.

“Say it. Say that you want me to fuck the living brains outta you. It’s what you’ve been asking throughout the whole day,”

Fuck! You’re tempted to go against your own rules and principles, the aching between your legs unbearable. Bucky isn’t trying to pull an orgasm from you, he’s trying to pull an answer. Which you don’t want to give him because you just can. So maybe you give in a little, enough that he applies more pressure on your poor sensitive bud.

“Yes - Yes, I want it all!” A quiet whisper so your whole family doesn’t wake.

Bucky wearily smiles at you, his hands stopping their administrations. He lets go of your hands and pulls off your shorts at such a painful speed. “Bucky, what if someone hears us?”

He looks up at you through his lashes, a kiss on your exposed tummy. Biting your lip to suppress a moan. “You just have to keep quiet then. You can do that, right, Peach?”

There’s no trust in your words, your head answering for you as you nod to his question. Once your shorts are off, your undies come next. Bucky doesn’t miss the noticeable wet spot in your undies, his tongue making an appearance as he licks his lips.

“And plus, it feels too good to decline. Doesn’t it?”

His hands reach down your legs, the sensation of his touch too vivid and nostalgic. It feels like heaven, too euphoric to decline. It had been so long so feel Bucky’s touch. Deprived after days. Although his filthy words linger in your ear, enough to bring you to your edge as you take care of yourself. It doesn’t feel as good when he’s with you.

“Mmh…Yeah,” your response is practically a purr but there’s no shame in the pleasure you’re taking as Bucky slips a finger in. A small gasp to keep quiet but that’s all the noise you make. Your head pouting that you aren’t able to scream his name.

Bucky triés another finger, making two in you. Bucky still remembers how warm you are and your body responding to his thick fingers; stretching and taking him in. There’s no struggle as he glides in and out of you so gracefully thanks to your juices. He’s enjoying himself, watching you try to suppress your moans and squirm underneath him. There’s no doubt that he’s going to make you cum before he fucks you. So he does it fast, fingering fucking you at a jackhammering speed with fingers knuckles deep in.

“Bucky — Oh - Fuck!” you’re holding to his biceps, a little too tight that it may leave a couple of crescent marks on his skin.

Bucky continues as you reach your high, your very first orgasm of the night because knowing with him, there’s always more than one. When you come, he kisses you to swallow your moans. Bucky pulls out his drenched fingers and taps on your bottom lip, you gladly open your mouth for him and suck on your release on his fingers. He eyes you as you continue to suck, tongue swirling around, teasing him with your teeth.

It’s unbearably painful for Bucky as he strains against his sweatpants. He growls when your tongue glides between his two fingers. He pulls them back and flips you over, a yelp that maybe had been a little too loud.

“You have to be quiet, Peach or everyone will hear how good I’m about to fuck this pussy,”

Fuck! How are you supposed to keep quiet when his words are as filthy as his actions; fingering you and all. Bucky doesn’t take any shit, he’s not risking getting caught by his friends and family. Although the thought seems so pleasant in his head.

He’s taking a while to give you what you want. The urge in your stomach making you move your hips as if you’re humping the air. “Bucky, you have to do something!”

An unwarned, but small, slap to your ass shuts you up. Your face pressed against your pillow as you swallow your whimpers and begs. Bucky eventually gives in to your begging, seeing that you’re absolutely soaking by the glistening juices dripping your thighs. He discards his sweats, freeing his constricted member.

You can feel him already, the head teasing your poor hole. He doesn’t exactly push it in yet but when he does he does it with no care, ramming into until he’s hit your roof. The air literally being pushed out of you. The sheets beneath you bunch up with your grip.

Bucky stills himself in you. Reeling in the warmth of your channel, he’s taking it in and remember the last he’s been in you. It’s only been days but to him, a deprived man of your touch, it feels like years. But how could anyone blame him? You feel right, warm, and slick in every way. It’s hard to resist you when you feel this damn good.

“James - Oh, god.” He hasn’t moved in minutes and not only is he having fun in torturing you but he’s also basking in your warmth. Like a newborn kitten, the warm environment it needs for its survival. You don’t dare move your hips because when it comes to Bucky, there’s no defying him in any way. But your own self disobeys you, contracting around him with no self-control.

“Peach, you don’t fucking listen.”

And now, thankfully, he pulls back to the tip only to jam it back in. Repeating his action with no sense of stopping or care. He’s hitting you to the top, your womb being poked around thanks to him. You’re trying to keep quiet but at the rate that he’s ruining you, it’s a difficult task. Your gargled words are muffled but they’re still quiet enough that Bucky doesn’t punish you for them.

His big hands pull at your hair, your head pulled back and looking at the bed frame as your own vision gets shaken. Bucky’s already given up at trying to fuck you in a quiet way, the way his skin came into contact with yours with every rough thrust bounced off the walls; drowning out your poor muffle moans.

“That’s right. You like having my cock ruin you don’t you, Peach? Because we all know, that I’m the only person who can fuck you this good.”

He’s right. In every way, he’s the only man who’s able to make you come for hours. The only man who’s able to make you wet without even touching you. You’re fucked because you know you’re on his leash.

“Y - Yes, daddy!”

You’re involuntarily clenching around him which is drawing out the orgasm from him. You feel yours ahead, the coil in your lower belly undoubtedly on its verge of snapping. Bucky’s thrusts become sloppy, an indication of his own orgasm coming close.

His grip on your hair helps him pull you close to his chest. The warmth of his chest radiating off you and you can feel his hot breath on your neck. Your head instinctively tilts to the side for him, teeth tickling that one spot. A giggle that turns into a gutted moan as Bucky also hits your g - spot.

“Bucky!”

Two fingers enter your mouth, you suck on them with no hesitation and reel in the feel as Bucky continues to pound into you. “Gotta be quiet, baby.”

“Oh! - Daddy!” A call for his name as you hush around him, your grip tight around his arms for support. “Do it. I’m on the pill.” His eyes burn into yours and you give him the permission and a sloppy but much-needed kiss is given to you.

“F - Fuck!” Bucky curses as his own orgasm hits him, the coil snapping and ribbons of warm white juice fill you to the brim. Your lips red and leaking with his juice. He stills himself in you as you milk him of his juice. His hot moans ringing into your ear as heavy pants and breathing co in sync together.

He pulls out, soft and empty and you’re too sensitive that you shudder at his actions. He notices and chuckles at your reaction. He lays you down on the bed, body sweaty and thighs dripping wet. Bucky doesn’t hesitate to pull his boxers and pants back up. He knows there’s no time to stay because if he was caught fucking his best friend’s daughter, well.

“Bucky,” a quiet call from you and Bucky resists the urge of laying beside you because once he does, he won’t be able to get up. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, a careful smile on his face.

“I can’t, baby. Your daddy will see. I’ll see you tomorrow night again, I promise.”

He leans over and a soft kiss is pressed against your forehead which a purr is let out. He stays still for a few seconds, foreheads pressed against each other and blue eyes staring eighth at you. You lean in for a kiss and he reciprocates. It’s quick but satisfying.

He’s already on his feet, on his way to exit your room as discreetly as he can. “Bye Bucky!” it’s a quiet whisper but Bucky smiles over his shoulder and then he’s off.

Bucky is taken back a little but he plays it off. Your dad’s figure standing in the hallway, but by the looks of it, he’s groggy and still partially awake. “Bucky?”

“Fuck.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which y/n finds herself a little frustrated with bucky.

You’ve often found yourself daydreaming. Most teenagers found themselves thinking of their future. Yet, here you were, swimming in the filth of your one mind as the previous events of the last two nights replay in your head. The way Bucky touched you under sheets and locked doors. The way he felt deep inside you. He shouldn’t impact you this much; seeing that this, whatever the situation is, is just a one time thing.

Atleast that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. You’re really trying to not form some type of attachment. Seeing that he is your family’s close friend and you’d be seeing him quite often. And given the fact that your family is spending the week at your family cottage with her family is not gonna help.

So when your dad finds himself calling your name too many times, he grows impatient and throws a pillow at you; your attention moving to your father. “What the hell?”

“What do you mean what the hell? I was calling your name for so long.” He scolds. Your shoulders drop and you mutter out a weak apology. “Oh, sorry.”

Your father shakes his head, a paired tsk leaving his lips as he drinks his white coffee, unlike the way Bucky likes them; black. “What’s going with you. You’re like out of it. You’re suppose to be relaxing but instead you seem so stressed. Is it school?”

No, it’s the thought of your best friend’s dick inside of me that’s stressing me, you thought. But instead you respond to his worry with a simple answer. “No.”

Your father ignores your answer and continues on to ramble about your current attitude. “If it’s about school starting. You shouldn’t worry about anything. It gets easier with every year.”

As if in cue, the sliding doors that lead outside the patio open, a dark chuckle leaving from their lips as it enters the living room. All too familiar with that sound, seeing that you’ve heard it twice in a row, heads turn to see Bucky entering the room wearing his grey sweatpants and t-shirt. A simple but endearing look on him.

“Fuck me.” You whisper to yourself, small enough that your father doesn’t hear you. Your eyes find themselves being forced to look at your phone, although no information goes through as your resisting to make eye contact with Bucky.

“Hey, Buck. Whatcha doin’?” Your father asks, taking another sip of that damn coffee. Bucky smiles and finds himself a seat across from you. The glance he sends you makes you shudder and you have to fight with yourself from giving him any reaction.

“Helpin’ set up the volleyball net again. Becca was begging to play with Y/n.” Your name falls heavenly from his lips and you chew on the inner part of your cheek. Trying to keep the throbbing sensation between your legs from getting the best of you.

God, you feel so fucking stupid. So hormonal that you can’t keep it in your pants. The way you feel so weak when he enters the fucking room.

Your dad turns his head towards you in that way where he’s going to give you a pep talk. “See? Maybe you should get off your phone and play with Rebecca. We are here to—”

“Relax, yes, I am well aware of what relaxing is. Being outside all the time isn’t one of them.” You hiss at your father and yet somehow, he hasn’t snapped at you yet. But you’re frustrated, to the point where you have to excuse yourself back to your room.

The door shuts loudly behind you and your father sends Bucky an apologetic smile on behalf of his daughter. Bucky smiles back, waving it off. “It’s fine. I deal with it all the time with Rebecca. Maybe I could talk to her.”

Your father groans, letting out a chuckle after that. “God, please. Talk some sense into that girl.” Bucky laughs and pats his friend on the back. Somehow, just somehow, there’s no guilt in his previous actions. None.

So he finds himself already at your door, knocking against the wood and he can hear your muffled scream. Most likely screaming into the pillow. So he enters, finding you laid on your stomach with your face between mountains of pillows.

“What do you want?” You groan and you feel the bed dip as Bucky’s weight sits on top of it.

“You know, your dad saw me outside your room the other night.” Your head peaks up at his words. Your thoughts going crazy as you might be fucked.

“What?” Your voice is laced with seriousness and tension, Bucky smiles to himself and ignores you.

“Don’t think he knows. If he had he would’ve knocked me out for sleeping with his daughter.” You’ve never really worded it that way, in your head it’s always that you’ve been sleeping with a man who’s way older than you. But now that someone said it, the pang of guilt hits you.

“Trust me, my dad could probably make your death look like an accident if he ever found out. Even worse is if your sister ever finds out.” You laugh at your own sentence, smiling after at Bucky who reciprocates your gesture.

A small silence stays, the both of you waiting for each other to speak up. Eventually, it’s Bucky who does. His hands finding themself to hold yours. “So…” He drags. Silence taking place again.

Your head tilts to the side in an innocent manner. “So what?” You ask, a little confused at his own question.

“Why’re you ignoring me?”

Your head raises at him and you’re almost offended at his question. “I’m not ignoring you.” You snatch your hand back, situating yourself into a crisscross position beside Bucky.

“But you are. I saw the way you ignore me when I came in.”

A sigh leaves your lips, you can’t deny that one because you were ignoring him. But not for the reason he thinks. It’s embarrassing to reveal that your hormones are getting the best of you. Making you go feral. It’s unfair, really. You’ve never found yourself this way for someone. Even for the guys which your school claims to be the hottest they’ve seen. They’ve clearly never seen your dad’s best friend.

“It’s — I - Okay! I was! But listen, it’s just I can’t control myself around you. I really can’t. It’s like every time I see you, you make me all tingly. Make me feel weird. I can’t do anything about it so I have to suck it up and wait till everyone’s asleep and do stuff.”

Bucky let’s out a loud laugh, your confession all too cute. When he’s finally able to calm down, he catches you pouting. Arms crossed and lips pursed together. 

“Are you saying I make you horny?”

The blood rushes to your cheeks and your find yourself hiding in the palm of your hands, muttering out curses and Bucky has to restrain another laugh because of how adorable you are. His hands latched them on to yours, pulling them away from your face.

“Baby, don’t worry about it. It’s normal. It’s how you feel. You can’t help it. I get that way too sometimes. Especially when I see you wearing those cute swim bottoms. Your little ass wiggling for me. Reminds me how those nights where I fucked the living brains outta ya.” His filthy words sends warmth to your pussy and you have to cross your legs to relieve that friction. Bucky notices and smiles at your reddened face.

“Did that turn you on, Peach?” His nickname for you falls from his lips and it’s a feeling that’s familiar, seeing that he called you that last night as he reminded you how good of a slut you were for him.

You nod at his question. Unable to trust your own words. But Bucky doesn’t take any less and his hands grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Words, baby. Use ‘em.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mutter and Bucky smiles, his own lips hovering against yours. His breathe fanning against the soft skin of your lips and your eyes flutter close.

You expect a kiss from him, yet instead he deprives you of his touch and pulls away. A shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Good. Now come down stairs. Told your dad I wouldn’t be long. Wouldn’t want him to be suspicious, now don’t we?”

A huff escapes your mouth in frustration and you fall back on your back to your bed. “Bucky! What the fuck!?” His chuckle echoes through the air and you sit up on your elbows, a pout on your face.

“Rip that look off your face, Peach or I’ll give you something to pout about.” The purse of your lips fall but a smirk curves a new one. He enjoys the way your playful mood turns into something more sinister. Like the devil comes out to play.

He walks to open the door, only to reveal your father at the other side. Bucky remains stoic, pretending that his heart didn’t just drop to his fucking stomach.

“Daddy!” You smile at your father, a little happier with your change of attitude.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which y/n finds herself having a midnight swim.

The pool glistens under moonlight. Shadows being casted in the soft waves. Your family would absolutely kill you if they had found out you’ve been swimming at night. Luckily, you’re much sneakier than you’ve expected.

The white t-shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder as you’re stomach deep in the pool. You reel in how the liquid feels nice against your warm skin. It’s the most peaceful you’ve been in while, after all, school hasn’t been too kind to your mental health. That is until the sound of Bucky’s voice ripples through your ear.

“It’s awfully late for a swim, don’t you think?”

You turn in the water, water rippling with every move you make. Your eyes find Bucky looking down at from the pool, wearing those goddamn grey joggers and red t-shirt that was definitely two sizes too small. A smile forming on your face as you recognize that look on his.

“I think it’s the perfect time. No family around to bothering me.” You shrug your shoulders, twirling in the water after.

You catch Bucky in your view once again, his fingers fumbling with the knot of his joggers and next thing you know, he’s pulling down his pants; leaving him bare in his boxers. He pulls his shirt next, his toned abs and v-line coming into view. You find yourself ogling him and Bucky takes note.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, swimming towards the wall of the pool where he’s standing.

“Swimming, darling.” He answers with a smile. “Just like you said, it’s the perfect time.”

You watch him as he dips his foot into the surface of the water, testing the temperature. In which he finds good enough for him, he submerges himself into the water. Being inches taller than you, he’s only waist deep into the water.

His ruffled hair signifies that he probably just got up from bed. The five day stubble he wears is already littered with grey hair, you can’t help the urge to touch it. Fingers scratch his cheek, his eyes scanning your actions carefully. You pause for a moment to look back up at him, blue eyes filled with black as lust returns for the night.

Smiling, you pull away from him and swim towards the middle of the pool; with you looking over your shoulder as you do so. Bucky chuckles to himself as he catches on to your teasing. A little petty but he sees the revenge you want to play on him for keeping you on his strings.

His body allows along with your movements. Watching as you spin in the water, the thin fabric of your white shirt getting wet with every splash. He catches on as your shirt becomes transparent thanks to the water, he’s able to see your breasts and nipples. Seeing that you’ve opted to go without a bra, you take note as you catch him eyeing you down.

You splash him in the face, a faint giggle falling from your lips in an effort not to wake the rest of the family up. Bucky plays a fake offence from your actions and splashes you back. Trying to not get soaked, you swim away from him but unfortunately for you, he’s faster. His arm snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. The sound of your laughter fading down.

There’s a pregnant pause and the beat of you heart is the only thing you’re able to actually hear. He’s very close to you. He’s been closer to you in many ways yet this felt more intimate than it should’ve have. Your hand on his bare chest, you can feel the beat of his heart singing against his soft skin.

“Daddy’s gonna be mad if he catches you doing dirty things with his little girl.” The smirk on your face rattles Bucky, your teasing is always something new every time. He knows your trying to get a reaction from him, like the spoiled little brat you are. “Especially in his pool.”

Fingers dancing along his protruding collarbone. He breathes in and out, keeping his patience at bay and by the way he looks at you, you know he’s nearing the edge. His grip on your waist doesn’t falter, instead they tighten; pulling you even closer to him until you’re chest to chest.

Perked nipples chaffing against wet clothing. “Your dad doesn’t have to know.” He says, words falling from red bitten lips. Bucky means his words, your father doesn’t need to know, nor will he ever.

“Know that you’re gonna fuck me in his pool?” You press a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek, lips moving down to the underside of his jaw and you hear the hitch in his breathe.

In mere seconds, you feel the cold tile against your back. Bucky’s own lips attacking your neck and jaw, having no care that he’s probably leaving love bites for all your family to see the next day. His tongue and teeth occasionally teasing the purple spot and whimpers escape you. With hands deep in the forest of brown locks, your legs find themselves wrapped around his torso; the feeling of his arousal against your thigh.

“Bucky, p- please.” The gasp leaves your lips like a prayer of need. But he doesn’t listen, he does, but he chooses to ignore your pleas until you properly ask him what you want. The pool tiles feels colder against your back as your senses heighten. Bucky’s breathing against that one spot behind your ear, your own breathe synced in with his.

“Y’think that’s gonna get you my cock? Y’gotta do more than that, Peach. Lemme hear you beg.”

You whimper and pull softly at his brown locks, a growl vibrating against the skin of your neck. “Fuck. Bucky, please, I can’t. You have to fuck me.”

His hands latch on to the curve of your breast, the supple skin being squeezed by his soft hands. Nipples pressed against his palm and you have to hide your face in the crook of his neck to suppress your moans. Although, it’s difficult to do that when Bucky is littering your skin with hickeys, ones that you’d definitely spend the rest of the morning covering up with makeup.

“More.” He groans.

You fucking hate him. He won’t touch you, teasing the living life out of you and he knows how much you hate it. Your resolve is breaking down, your patience along with it and so you give him what he wants. Lips latched around patches of skin on his neck, sucking and then mumbling out pleas. “Daddy, please, please. ‘Want your cock.”

After what feels like an eternity, Bucky finally gives in. He’s helping you remove your wet shirt, leaving you naked in open space, in your own pool. Luckily for the both of you, you’ve opted to forgo the shorts; the only thing getting in the way are your white cotton panties. But Bucky has no problem ripping them off you and throwing them in the far back.

“Fuck me.” You moan as his cock feels more prominent by your thigh. He reaches down between the two of you, cock in hand and readies himself near your enterance. His eyes look up at you for confirmation, in which you nod yet that didn’t seem enough for Bucky.

“I want to hear it, Peach.” His forehead is pressed against yours, both breathing catching up and you follow his demands.

“Yes, ‘want you to fuck me. Please.” You didn’t mean to come off as desperate but he’s right there, so close and you want nothing but him to stretch you out to the max.

A little harsh due to the water but nevertheless pleasurable, Bucky thrusts himself inside you. The gasp that leaves your lips swallowed by Bucky’s own mouth. Your eyes close shut, giving you the ever lasting sensation of the first thrust. When you feel him pull out again, you ready yourself for the next one. This time it’s harsher, the water around splashing more. Bucky has to hold himself up by the wall, muscles flexing due to the strain but it worth it.

“O-o-oH!” You squeal as Bucky hits you perfectly at the right spot. His large hand slapping itself over your mouth to keep your sex noises at bay. With every thrust, your moans get muffled by the palm of his hand.

Bucky watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head, breathing unstable and nails clawing his back. It was all too feral. So animalistic of you that he forgets your sex drive was over the max. Most women he slept with were the same, each one unable to satisfy him the way you do. Each unable to let go and do their worse on him.

Yet, here you were nails digging into his back, with no doubt crescent marks being situated on the surface of his tanned skin. He has no problem with it though because he marked his territory on you as well. Purple spots littered on your neck and collarbone. He enjoys the look of them on you, the way that you’ll probably scold him afterwards will be a fun way to end the night.

“Bucky, I- I…” Unable to form words, Bucky removes his hand over your mouth. Trying to let you speak but the orgasm your chasing becomes the main priority.

“You gonna cum, Peach?”

You let out a small “yeah” along with a whimper. Your head nodding as well to answer his question. He watches you, bottom lip stuck between your teeth. The way you close your eyes and lean your head back against the pool wall tells him so.

He’s going to come as well, but he watches as you come undone first. Heavy breathes leaving your mouth as it forms a o-shape, your orgasm washing over you. Your small high pitched whines sending himself over, spilling all over inside you and you feel every inch of it.

Bucky let’s out a low growl, all too feral and familiar. His high calming down and he presses his forehead against yours, both of your eyes closed as you reel in the moment for a second.

When you finally open your eyes, they catch the purple spots on his neck. A small chuckle leaving your lips as you realize the struggle in the morning. “I’m sorry.” You say between small laughs, fingers touching the hickeys. A small hiss falls from Bucky, his brows furrowed as he plays a pretend offence.

“You can use my makeup to cover it up.” You let him know and he looks at you, head tilted.

“Now why would I want to do that?” His lips pursed and you slap him softly on his chest.

“Bucky! Daddy will see. He’ll kill the both of us!”

Bucky chuckles, hands up in surrender. You pout at his reaction but he knows it’s all play pretend.

Soon the air turns chilly and the fact that you’re naked doesn’t help. Your own arms wrapped around you paired with Bucky’s own isn’t enough and he notices. He notices how you shiver and shudder when he rubs circles on your back. So he pulls back.

“Where you going?” You ask, feeling out of it.

“I’m getting you a towel and sending you to bed.” You watch him as he exits the pool, still in his boxers, he reaches for the towel that hangs on the back of a chair. You’re naked and even though he’s seen more than that, you still feel the need to cover yourself when he motions for you to get out.

His arms reaches around you to wrap the towel around your body, your hands clutched on to the yellow towel. Bucky reaches down to grab his own clothes, using his red shirt to dry him off and when deems that he’s well off, he slips on his sweatpants.

-

The house is quiet, it’s just the two of you that are awake, yet you can’t get the unnerving feeling that you’ve been caught. Or eyes that are preying on you. But you manage to suppress those doubts as Bucky takes you back up stairs to your room.

Once he manages to get pass those goddamn squeaky steps, he settles you down on your bed. Throwing your wet clothes into the laundry basket, he turns to you. “Where’s your clothes?” You point are the top drawer and he follows, opening and pulling out a pair of undies and bra. He reaches for a shirt next, paired with shorts.

“Buck, I don’t wear a bra when I go to sleep.” You notify him and he looks physical flushed at your words. He lets out a small oh and you giggle as he returns the bra back. He excuses himself for a moment after he folds your clothes neatly, a minute or two passes by and he returns with a shirt for himself.

Your clothes are properly placed beside you on your bed. All neatly folded. A silence takes over and Buck turns to you.

“I should go back.” He says but you don’t want him to and you express your thoughts.

“Can you stay? Please?” The look on his face can tell you that he’s contemplating his answer and you’re quick to let him know that he has a choice. “Or not. It’s fine really.”

He sighs because to be fair, he really can’t say no when you look like that. Like you’re oblivious and unaware. Bucky adores you, he does. As a person and his fuck-buddy, or whatever the hell the term is for this situation. Bucky has known you for a while, he knows how you behave, knows how you are. But he never uses that to his advantage and use it against you.

“Okay.” And god, the way your face lights up just makes it all worth it. Bucky knows he going to have to leave sometime in the morning, seeing that he doesn’t want his close friend catching him sleeping with his daughter. “But, put on your clothes first please. Really don’t wanna ruin your sheets again.” You chuckle and wait for him to turn around, when he doesn’t get the memo and you let out an awkward laugh.

“Can you turn around?” Bucky’s face turns red and despite the many times he’s seen you naked, he respects your demand and turns around. He hears you shuffle but his eyes focuses on the decorations that you’ve managed to accumulate over the years of owning this cottage.

There’s a photo of you and mom together that stands on your dresser. That necklace that Rebecca bought you when you turned 18 last year. But what catches his attention is that diary that sits by itself. It’s brown and has many pages, perhaps you’ve written a lot in most of those pages.

“You have a diary?” He asks, still not turning around until you say it’s okay.

“Yeah.” You answer, watching him as his fingers dances along the spine of the book.

“Can I read it?” And you’re quick to reply, because knowing if you did let him read, he’d find those embarrassing diary entries where everytime he had screwed you, you’d write your thoughts on it. Most of them we extravagantly different and explicit from the rest, and god, you were totally willing to burn that damn book if it meant that Bucky didn’t have to read it.

“I prefer that you don’t. Please.” Bucky nods and forgets about the book. But he doesn’t deny that your rejection of his request does leave some questions and he can’t help but be curious. “Okay. I’m good.”

His head motions for you to get into bed and you follow. Tucking yourself in, you leave a space for Bucky. The bed dips to his weight and lays on his side as you do. The both of you facing each other and you lazily smile, sleep getting the best of you. “Bucky?” You call out and he hums for you to continue your question. “Can you hold me till I sleep?”

He smiles and his silence answers your question with a nod. His arms wrapped around you and pulling you close to him. With his new shirt on, you can smell him on the cotton. It’s nice and it lures you to sleep. Along with the way his hands massage your scalp, it feels like paradise.

It does but you know it won’t last for long.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the secret is finally revealed and rebecca isn't too happy.

After the night that Bucky had satisfied the empty space in your bed, it had felt a little emptier lately. So when you woke up the next morning, you knew not to expect him next to you, which was proven right as it was empty. The dent of his head still present on your pillow, indicating that he may had left quite later than you had expected. Bucky’s punctuality had not been a worry to you but the hickeys you had left on his neck the night prior. The night where you had spent lips presses against each other as the pool enclosed the two of you.

It was still early, early enough that your father didn’t go out for his morning jogs. Your eyes reading the clock, seeing that it was nearly seven am, you had gathered yourself up to your feet. Stretching your sore muscles and you catch a glance of yourself in your dresser mirror. Three purple circles spotted on your neck. Your fingers dance over the freshly sucked on hickeys and the memories what had led to them replay.

You would definitely have to put some makeup on them and you wonder if Bucky already knew that for his own spots. The bottle of foundation sits on your dresser, waiting for you to use them. You make your way down the hallway to check up on Bucky, slowly turning the doorknob to his door to see him tucked in his bed. Blanket pulled all the way up to his chin and you smile at the view. His hair is a tasselled mess, he would definitely need to brush his after.

Although, your moment is interrupted when a voice calls your name. “Y/n?” Rebecca’s voice snaps you back and pulls you away from his brother’s room. You send her a innocent smile and she rubs her eyes, indicating she had just woken up. “What’re you doing in my brother’s room?” She asks. There stood your best friend, knuckling her eyes just as she had woken up. But you stood there, frozen, not knowing what to with your best friend who’ll probably kill you for sleeping with her brother. 

The words that come of your mouth are stutters and Rebecca looks at you in confusion. “I- I - Heard, heard something loud. Or something. Thought, I’d go check it out.” Rebecca raises a brow at you, your anxiety driving you to the max and it only hits you that you still haven’t put on anything to cover up the hickeys. And they’re purple. Super fucking purple. You play with the tie of your shorts as you smile at Rebecca.

“Oh, okay. It’s still early. I’ll go back to sleep.” She says plainly and simply returns to her room. There’s a big silence that you reel in. You didn’t even realize that you’ve been holding in your breathe until you sigh. You’ve thought you’ve been caught, seeing that your neck is littered with purple skin.

That is until a door slams open, the loud smack giving you the worst scare. Rebecca stands outside her room, eyes wide and mouth open, her finger point at you. “Who in the fuck gave you that?!” She whisper-yells, still having respect for the others who are sleeping.

You realize that she figured it out. You try to shush her and shut her back in her room, trying to tell her to keep down. “What- Who- How!?” You keep a finger to her mouth, telling her to shut up and her eyes widen even more when she’s closer to you and your neck.

“Calm down, please. They’re just hickeys.” You say and Rebecca actually laughs, like full on laugh that you have to slap a hand over you mouth. You wait until she’s sane enough to properly talk to. In which she does, she calms down and puts her hand over her mouth yet still in shock but nevertheless quiet.

“Yeah, they’re hickeys but who gave them? Some forest elf?” She laughs at her own joke yet you seem so unbothered. Like how the hell are you to explain to Rebecca that it was her brother that had fucked you and was nice enough to mark you. “Jesus Christ, Y/n. They’re fucking purple. You’ve got to cover this up or your parents will fucking lose their heads.” Her fingers touches them and you hiss at the contact, she mumbles a sorry after.

“I know.” You tell her, already knowing the obvious.

“Okay but who the fuck gave ‘em to you? We’re in the upper side of Manhattan and as far as I know, you don’t know anyone from this area who wants to fuck you. So, spill.”

You shake your head. “I can’t. I really can’t. You’ll kill me.” She groans and shakes your shoulders.

“Please. It’s not like you fucked my brother or something.” And you literally freeze, because she’s answered her own question and Rebecca laughs for a quick second before she realizes. She realizes that you’re not laughing and her face falls. It fucking falls to the ends of the Earth.

“What?” You don’t move an inch, your face unable to create emotion and your eyes refuse to look up and stare Rebecca straight in the eyes. “You’re joking right?” Yet still no answer from you but it’s enough for Rebecca to understand. “You’ve been fucking my brother?!”

You try to shush her up but she’s repeating the same sentence over again. “Becca, please keep it quiet. Please!”

“He’s like double your age! That’s my brother!”

“I know! I know!”

Then she suddenly shuts up, her face stoic and her mouth opens in another sudden of realization. “Is that why you were in his room? You were going to fuck him, weren’t you?” You take great offence in her accusation. To be so belittled like that. You step back from Rebecca, your offence played all over your face.

“Excuse me. I may be fucking your brother, but I still have respect for him and for me. I’m not some whore or slut or whatever you think I am who wants to fuck all the time.” You scoff at her. “I’m not asking too much from my best friend. I don’t want anyone to know this. Especially my parents.”

There’s a silence that plays in between and it’s Rebecca who first breaks the silence. “How long has this been going on?”

You answer her truthfully. “Not long. Two weeks.”

Rebecca puts her face in the palm of her hands, unable to process the information. Her brother, old enough to be definitely your father, fucking her close family friend. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to. It was so weird to see her own friend who she treated like a sister be in loved—

“Where are you going?” You ask her as she makes her way around you, existing the room. You follow her to the hallway, watching her as she stomps her way to Bucky’s room. You’re not too far from her as she storms her way into the room, Bucky still asleep. You watch as Rebecca slams a pillow onto Bucky’s sleeping figure, instantly waking him up and he sends a glare to whoever just woke him up.

“What the fuck, Beck?” He growls, he watches as his sister crosses her arms and there’s a look on her face that he knows far too well. He turns around and catches you in his room as well, lips turned down and eyes unable to meet him.

“You’ve been fucking my best friend?!” Rebecca hits him with the pillow with every word. Eventually, he catches the pillow and stops her.

“You fucking told her?”

“She found out.”

Bucky sighs into his palms. This is definitely going to be a bitch to fix.

“Yeah I fucking found out because you’re out here giving each other hickeys. If you’re going to be fucking her, don’t make it obvious.” She stares at Bucky and gives him the worst death glare he’s ever seen. She’s never been this angry. Bucky has seen Rebecca angry before. Yet not like this. Not the way of angry where she wants to destroy everything but the way of angry that she can’t believe it. “She’s 19, Bucky. What is wrong you?”

You roll at the mention of your age. You’re an adult. You can make decisions on your own. You’re not the baby everyone sees anymore. ”He knows my age, Rebecca. We’re not stupid. What we did was a mutual agreement. It was consensual, on both parties.”

Rebecca feels like she could scream. Bucky feels like he could scream. You feel like you could scream. This feels like Hell. You don’t know what to say because what is there to say? Are you suppose to apologize for having sex?

“God, what is your dad going to say?” Rebecca says to you and your heart leaps from your chest.

“Nothing because you’re not telling him.”

She wants to say something but Bucky gets there before her. “Becca, don’t. Don’t make it worse.” She physically groans and mumbles her answer.

“Fine. But I really don’t want to hear anything that you guys do. I can’t believe this.” You can’t help but have a grin on your face, your eyes meeting Bucky’s who’s unfortunately doesn’t seem to reciprocate your excitement. “Ugh, Y/n, I don’t even know what to do with you anymore.” She grumbles and by the time she’s out, the door is closed.

You and Bucky bask in the silence for a moment before you speak up. “I’m sorry.” You want to cry, honestly, but no tears fill up in your eye. So instead you give him a pathetic apology. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to check on you. If I hadn’t she wouldn’t have caught me.”

Bucky reaches for your arm, pulling you down to his bed. Arms wrapped around you, he pulls you close to his chest, he feels his shirt getting wet and when he pulls back he realizes that you’re crying. Somehow. “Y/n, why are you crying?”

You try to swipe the tear off your face but they just keep falling. Bucky’s fingers caress your wet cheeks and stares at you with soft eyes. “It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

He cups your face, he never realizes how small you actually are compared to him that he feels himself get nervous. Butterflies in his stomach. “This is not your fault. Some one was gonna find out anyways.”

Your eyes close and the last pair of tears flow down. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, you return the gesture back and soon enough, you find yourself straddling his lap to cuddle him. “God, what am I going to do with you, my sweet Peach.”

Bucky leans back into his abundance of pillows, letting the two of you just lay on each other for a while. Although, you knew that sometime now that you’d have to get up and help Bucky cover up those hickies you had give each other. “Bucky, I have to go.”

“I know. But I don’t want you to.”

You sigh against his shirt, you really have to go because it’s nearing seven thirty and that’s when your father goes on his damn morning jog. “I’ll see you later for breakfast anyways.”

“I suppose.” He pouts to himself and his grip on you loosens. You’re finally able to set yourself free and stand up. Eyes a little red but nothing a bit of concealer can’t fix.

“I’ll send you some of my foundation to fix that.” You lean down to kiss him one last time. He nods against the kiss and bids you farewell.

You find yourself in your room once again; staring back at your own reflection. Perhaps somethings are meant to stay a secret.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which y/n has to deal with the fact that her relationship both with bucky and rebecca may be compromised.

Bucky pressed you up agaisnt the wall, the sudden contact making a large thud throughout the room. His mouth capturing yours with the intention of swallowing your needy moans. Despite his sister’s warnings, he’s managed to fuck you multiple times in the span of two days. From their last night at the cottage to the first time back in the city.

He found you in his room, waiting for him to arrive from his afternoon run, with you still in your pyjamas. Bucky sees the way your face lights up as he realizes you’re in his bed, cheeks cursing with blood and your pearly whites showing.

So with your hands pined up above you, your words turn into poor mumbled noises as you plead for more. Bucky shakes his head, denying you of the touch you want. Instead, he rips your legs apart with his knee and presses his muscled thigh against your clothed pussy.

“Daddy, please.” Your moans come off as needy and desperate, and if you weren’t so horny, you would’ve cringed at yourself. But in the moment, nothing matter except for Bucky’s touch.

His tattooed hand reaching up to place it over your throat, telling you to shut your mouth. “Shut it and rub your pussy over my thigh. C’mon now.” And you follow. You drag your drenched panties over his thigh and you shudder at the sensation. It’s not enough to relieve you of an orgasm but it’s enough to give you some relief.

“Good girl, my darling. So good.” He whispers under your neck and your eyes flutter close to the sound of his husky voice. He taps his finger on to your cheek, a tsk following as he shakes his head. “Nuh huh, I want your eyes open. So you can watch yourself cum on my thigh like the slut you are.”

You smile at his filthy words. Bucky Barnes was a man of his words. His mouth was as just filthy as his head is. “Oh, shit.” 

Your head leans on his shoulder as your hips buck against him. You were close, with hard work, you could orgasm but Bucky pushes your hips against the wall in an attempt to stop you. It does, unfortunately.

“Bucky!” You snap your head back and you pout at him. He shushes you with a finger to your lips and your brows furrow at his actions.

“What time is it?” He asks himself, he turns around and sees that’s nearly eight in the evening. The time when Rebecca would come home from her part-time job. You’ve had to lie to your parents that you would be hanging out at a friends place for a little bit when in reality you’d be a few houses next door.

“Shit, Becca’s home.” He lets go of your hands and settles you back down on to the floor and you’re even more confused why he stopped.

“But Rebecca knows.” You tell him.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be fucking her best friend when she’s around.”

You roll your eyes at him and he notices. 

“As far as I’m concerned, you fucked me a couple of times in a room that was right next to her. So I don’t see a problem with you fucking me right now.”

Bucky sends you a glare, warning you to keep your tongue back in your mouth because you’re really testing him right now. “We’ll have a lot of time together soon, my peach. Now, we have to deal with your best friend and who’s also my sister downstairs” His lips latches on to your neck which you tilt your head for more access on his part.

“I mean, she’s hardly a friend anymore, if we’re being honest.”

“Bucky? You home?” You hear Rebecca Barnes yell downstairs. And before you even can get to open your mouth, Bucky is yelling back at his sister.

“Yeah, give me a minute!” He turns back to you, eyes apologetic because you know you’re probably going to have to sneak out despite his sister already knowing.

“But I don’t want to be sneaking around Rebecca anymore.” Sighing as you wrap your arms around Bucky, returns the gesture and holds you close. The smell of his perfume stuck on his shirt and you bury your face even deeper. 

Bucky knows that you're right, he doesn’t want to make you feel like a burden. Hell, he wishes he can be open with you in public but since given your situation it was best not to. 

But this is his sister. Your best friend. She knows and if she was not in board with the idea then she would openly let Bucky nor you know. But she hasn’t been vocal about anything to both her brother and you since they came back from vacation, yet Bucky remains careful around the both of them.

“Okay. But just act normal.” He says and you smile against him. He can feel it and he returns it as well, kissing the top of your forehead.

After fixing your pants and panties, Bucky finds a pair of sweatpants that isn’t stained with your arousal. He changes into quickly and leads the two of you down the living room, where he catches his sister in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge. You stand meekly behind Bucky, holding on to his tattooed hand.

“Hey, we don’t have anymore straw—” Rebecca cuts her sentence off when he looks up to see her friend and her brother standing behind the kitchen island. She notices how you hold her brother’s hand behind and plays a smile. “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hey.” You say, a little unsure if you should just seen casual and don’t bring up any questions.

“So, did I interrupt something or did y’all just finish?” Rebecca casually asks and grabs herself a glass of water. You don’t know if you should answer and you look at Bucky for that. He rolls his eyes as an answer, not at you but at his sister. “So, I’ll take that as a… no?”

“I’m sorry. I should go. It’s already weird enough. M’parents are probably waiting.” You say as you rip your hands from Bucky’s. Rebecca watches you smile at her brother, twirling your hair like a fucking child. 

It shouldn’t really bother her this, they’re just screwing around. It’s just sex. Plus, it’s not like Y/n is the type of girl to play with a guy’s feelings. She’s knows you. She looked up at you as she once joked that since you were “older” you were much “wiser”. You were always giving her advice on boys and how to be yourself. She knew you weren’t a bitch. 

So she’s really trying her hardest not to ruin her friendship with you. The only thing is that Rebecca doesn’t know that it may be too late.

“No, it’s okay. M’sorry for saying that. Shouldn’t have made it weird.” Bucky sighs at his sister’s half-assed apology.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t.” He says and she ignores her brother.

“It’s alright. It is really weird to have your best friend sleep with your brother who’s also our family friend. I’d be weirded out too.” You chuckle to lessen the tension in the room. “But anyways, I should go home anyways. Daddy’s probably waiting at the dinner table for me.” You send the two a smile and Rebecca returns the gesture. You turn to Bucky and tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. “Bye. Have a goodnight.”

The two siblings watch as you snatch your coat from the hanger and slip back on your shoes, the door open and closes in seconds and Bucky groans. “God, Becca, what the hell is wrong with you?” He sits on one of the bar stools and hides his face in the palm of his hands.

“I’m sorry. This is all new to me. What am I suppose to do?” She shrugs and chugs her water down and Bucky rolls his eye at his younger sister.

“I don’t know? Maybe shut up and don’t talk about us having sex!” She laughs and stops as she gasps, realizing.

“So you were fucking when I got home! Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” She hugs her brother from behind, laughing as he tried to shove her off him. “Okay, okay! I’ll stop being weird.”

Bucky huffs and watches his sister pace around the kitchen island again, watching her as she prepares their dinner since it’s her night to make food. “But really, Bucky. She’s my age. We used to talk about One Direction and how Zayn Malik left while you’re out talking about the stock market“

“Woah, thanks for making me feel better.”

“Hey! Just saying. How did the two of you even start this?”

Bucky recalls the day you strut into his home, weeks ago where Rebecca was off at soccer practice and your parents had gone out to run errands. As much as you loved staying at home, you had decided to have a little fun. In which led to giving your dad’s best friend a fucking blowjob.

“None of your business.”

Rebecca huffs at his brother’s answer, or should she say lack of. She really doesnt know how she fits in the equation. What was her role? What would she do? Was she the gatekeeper? She honestly doesn’t know.

“Okay but Buck, what do you see in Y/n?” She didn’t mean to come off as aggressive or rude, but she had meant her question. And by the look on Bucky’s face, he took offence.

“What?” He asks, getting agitated with his sister.

“I mean, what do you see in her? Do you see a future with her? Because I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re not getting younger and you don’t really have time to be fooling around.” Rebecca tries her best to sugar coat her words but then again, she’s known to speaking her mind on anything.

“That’s still none of your business. And for fucks sake, stop calling me old.” Bucky’s voice rumbles through his home and Rebecca quiets down, realizing that she really shouldn’t have pressed his buttons.

The silence is interrupted by a ding from Bucky’s phone. I’m sorry that we got interrupted. It’s from you and Bucky’s shoulders loosen up.

No, I’m sorry that my sister made it awkward.

“I’m going out. Take a breather.” He announces and Rebecca doesn’t further any questions, she knows what his true intentions are but maybe it’s the best that she stays quiet.

>cite>Meet me by the park down the street.He tells you and you’re surprised he wants to meet up again.

Oh? You going to make it up to me? Bucky can tell that you probably had a wide grin plastered on your face, the throbbing between your legs returning as your thoughts become filthy of the thought of Bucky between your legs again.

Come outside and find out.

—

You’ve excused yourself from dinner after finishing your food, both of your parents sending you smiles as you tell them you’ll be probably passed out from all the food. Telling them politely not to bother you, when in fact you had snuck out from your window and carefully jumped. Changed into a pair of sweats and a shirt clearly two sizes too large, you walk down the streets to the park at the end of the road.

You come to find the park, obviously, empty, for the exception that Bucky sat on one of the swings, slightly swaying back and forth. A smile curves on your lips as he catches you in his vision, your feet running over to him and he catches you with open arms.

“Sorry, I felt early.” Your words mumble into his skin, and he simple shakes his head.

“Sorry that my sister is a bitch.” You chuckle and pull away from him, peering up to look at his face in the dark.

“So, what excuse you’d give your dad this time?” He asks, his hands cupping your face and you melt at his touch. Eyes closing and you smile at him. “Darling?” He snaps you out from your small little nap and he chuckles.

“Right. Told daddy I’ll probably be passed out, ate too much.” You giggle at your answer and Bucky squeezes your cheeks in the palm of his hands; lips pressed together in a pout that makes your words muffled.

“What’d you tell Becca?” You ask.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the mention of his sister and let’s go of your cheeks. For a moment you think that you’ve ruined the mood with your question. Your heart sinks and on instinct you apologize. “Sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned her.”

You hear him sigh and turn his head. He turns back to you and in the darkness you’re still able to see his beautiful blue eyes staring at you. “No, it’s okay. We just had an argument.”

His hands capture your own and the two of you sit on the bench where parents would usually sit at to watch their kids play. With your head on his shoulder, you ask him another question. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

For a moment you just sit there, holding hands and you find your eyelids getting heavy. It’s hard to keep up with the sleepiness and Bucky is noticing how your head lols down and up while you’re trying to keep it up. He laughs and you feel it rumble through your own body, sending you to rip your hand away from his. Playing a pout on your face to fake an offence. “I’m tired, okay!” You exclaim and Bucky shakes his head.

“I know, but I still have to make up for our lost time. Or did you forget?” He quirks a brow at you and your cheeks turn hot at his insinuation. The way your throat goes dry unlike the opposite for the throbbing between your legs. He notices how your legs are crossed together, tightly. Perhaps in an effort to relieve that tension between your legs.

“N-no.” It comes out as a little squeal, you’re mentally regretting how you answer because you feel so stupid, so embarrassed. So embarrassed in front of a man who’s seen you naked multiple times, yet you can’t go through a minute of compliments and sex jokes from him.

“Good, because I can smell you, darling. Smelling so sweet, like a peach.” His hand rests on your thigh, which he wished that you had worn a little something shorter than those sweatpants. But the way your breath hitched took the same effect and your eyes refused to look into Bucky’s.

“Y’gonna fuck me on a bench, daddy?” Your voice drops and a smile is plastered on your face. Bucky’s finger places itself under your chin, lifting your face up to him.

“Y’wanna be fucked on a bench?” You simple shrug, looking over your shoulders and down to his wondering hand. He lets out a pair of tsk and shakes his head, the forest of brown curls bouncing back and forth. “Didn’t answer me, darling.” And just like that, he pulls his hand away from you.

You’ve never realized how much he has you wrapped around his finger until now. His simple denial causing you great sexual frustration that you don’t even care about the sound of greed in your begging. “Bucky!” You gasps, a hand on his wrist and you beg with doe eyes.

“Want my fingers?” You nod vigorously, not a single care with your desperation. “Tell me what you want me to do, Peach.”

A smile forms on your face and suddenly you look down at him as your find yourself straddling his lap. With fingers picking at the straining soft cotton material of his shirt, you find the right words to express your frustration. “Well…” You start off, “‘Want you to kiss me, touch me everywhere.” Bucky nods, his hands on your hips as his thimb rubs circles on the exposed skin.

“What else, my love?” Your cheeks turn hot at the name. His display of affection getting to you as you start to stutter on your words, all thanks to him. Bucky notices his affect, he smiles and cups your face in order to bring you down to kiss him. “Keep going, Peach.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Bucky Barnes.” You mumble against his lips and you capture his mouth once again. Only this time he kisses you with tongue. He explores your mouth with his and your eyes widen at the sudden burst of sensation. Hands on his chest to feel his own heart banging against your hand. It feels like forever that you’re making out. But it’s only until you’re the first one to pull away to breath again. The both of you looking at each other with red lips, heavy eyes, and lazy smiles.

“It’s getting late.” He announces and you know what he means by that. He’s right. It is getting late and as much as you want to fuck Bucky, you’re not going to do it at a public park. It’s time to go. You nod at his answer. “It is.”

“Let’s get you to bed. You’ve got your first day of university tomorrow.” Your face lights up at his words, he remembered.

“You remembered.”

“‘course I did. You wouldn’t shut up about it.” You scoff at his answer, playfully slapping him on the chest but Bucky is faster and catches your hand. He presses a kiss to your knuckles and you have to roll your eyes at him.

“God, you’re such a sap.” You say as you get off him, standing back to your feet on the ground; you stick out a hand for him to grab in which he gladly accepts. “At least you remembered, Becca hasn’t really been talking to me.” Theres a way his mood falls to the sound of his sister’s name but he doesn’t stop you. Instead he frowns at his own sister’s behaviour.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes. You don’t know what for but you take it. Thinking that if you can’t get one from the Rebecca Barnes, you may just take the one from the other Barnes.

With a shrug, you forget about the topic and rather focus on you and him instead. Bucky clearly understands as a smile forms on his face.

“Okay, but really, goodluck tomorrow.” He holds your face tightly in the palm of his hands. Blue stormy eyes digging into your own eyes, you could totally get lost in them, in which you did once. One night spent on pulling orgasms after orgasms out of you. He eventually feel asleep on the empty side of your bed with an arm draped over your bare stomach.

“Thank you.”

He plants a longing kiss in your lips, seeking to linger a little longer than you’ve thought but you’re not complaining. Once Bucky finally decides to pull away, he smiles at you. Eyes staring down at you affectionately, something you haven’t seen on Bucky in a while.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” He lets go you, unfortunately, and you greet him the same as you part ways.

And you did. You had a goodnight, thinking of Bucky and his soft words, his soft kisses, and his soft touches.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which you spend your first day of school with none other.

The day had gone great, to be honest. You attended your first class of the day, which was psychology, seeing you were majoring in said subject. The professor was nice, he wasn’t over bearing or too strict. He had assumed that everyone had printed the syllabus, in which they had, and so did you. You were prepared, you weren’t going to fuck up this clsss, seeing that you were planning to work as a psychologist in the nearing future.

Your professor had gone over the basic protocols of school regulations, cheating, plagiarism, and the usual stuff. The students around you buzzed with each other as they talked to the people they had already known. You stayed quiet as you found no one you’ve met before.

The seconds had gone by, your professor continued on with the introduction with only a few minutes left till your first class was finished. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, wondering who it could be, you take it out as discreet as possible.

 _You almost done your first class?_ The text had came from Bucky and you smile at his question.

 _Yes, I finish in five minutes. Why?_ You hit him back with your own question. Your eyes looking at clock, ticking it’s way over to the next hour.

 _Come to the parking lot. There’s a surprise for you._ His text intrigued you. A little confused by what he meant but you had questioned what he had for you. And to be fair, Bucky Barnes is a peculiar man with peculiar intentions.

And finally, when the final words had left your professor’s mouth, you were the first one to leave. Doors slamming wide open, your eyes search for where the parking lot could be. You catch it on the far right of the campus, following the pebbled pathway to the parking lot, you’re unaware of who is there.

You were able to spot Bucky leaning against his car, head down and looking at his phone. A childish squeal leaves you as you sprint your way to him, jumping in his arms unexpectedly, he groans as he catches you.

“What’re you doing here? Thought I had to take the train.” You pull back and you can’t stop the smile from forming on your face. Your cheeks hurting from the constant upwards of your lips. The chuckle that Bucky lets out rumbles through the air and you can’t help but fall helplessly into gnat hope you told yourself not to dig.

“I’m the surprise! You like it?” He spread his arms in the air, doing a wingspan. Closing the space between you again, arms wrapped around him, you press your face into his shirt covered chest. His cologne running through your nose.

“l guess that’s a yes.” He says, bringing his arms down around your body. “C’mon, I gonna take you to lunch.”

Nodding, you pull away. The two of you get into the car, AC already on and you sigh, leaning back into your seat. You tug on the hem of your sweatshirt, thankful that you had decided to wear a tank top underneath just in case. With a quick swoop over your head, you’re left in your tank top and Bucky’s eyes are straining to look at you.

“Jesus, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at the older man, your insecurities tell you to wrap your arms around your chest, in which you do listen. “Oh! I know, can we go to Joe’s Pizza?” You flash your smile at him and Bucky just knows you’re doing it on purpose because there’s no way he can refuse you.

“You little minx. You know I can’t say no to that.”

“I know. That’s why I did it.” He rolls his eyes at you and starts the drive, exiting out of the parking as he drives into the road. A hand steering the wheel while the other holding your hand.

The drive is quite as the two of you enter the main ground of New York City. Traffic isn’t bad at this time of the day but it’s taking a little longer than usual. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, which thankfully you don’t have to worry about filling the silence with stupid small talk. But it’s until Bucky speaks up.

“Did your dad tell you?” He ask, fingers tapping on the leather covering of his steering wheel.

Shaking your head, you look up at him from your phone. “Tell me what?”

“He invited us over for dinner.”

You groan because your dad is always having those damn get together and parties. Literally, you’re not able to get a single peace of mind. Especially when his guests is his best friend whom you’ve fucked. “What for this time?”

“To celebrate your first day, of course.”

“God, he’s so sentimental.”

Bucky chuckles at your words, lifting your hand up to kiss your knuckles. His soft pretty pink lips coming into contact with your hand. “Of course he is, you’re his only daughter.”

“His daughter that you fuck every weekend.”

He rips his hand from yours, pinching your bare thigh thanks to your skirt. You let out a small _ow_ and send him a glare, that to some may scare the shirt of them, but Bucky is used to your playful banter and offences.

“Jerk.”

Bucky laughs and while the light is still red, he catches your chin and turns you around; planting a kiss on your lips, all of your irritation is gone within seconds and you find yourself melting to his touch. The two of you get lost in each other’s mouth, unable to come back to the reality of the world until a loud beeping noise forces you to pull back. The pedal being stepped on as the two of you move forward into the street, definitely not in the direction of the pizzeria. But your mind is blurry that you definitely don’t give a shit, your legs crossed and breathing heavy.

It’s silent again, with the exception of your panting. The images of previous nights being spent in the comfort of your bedroom is replayed. Bucky’s touches agaisnt your skin, soft and delicate as if he’s afraid to hurt. His linger contact with you as his blue eyes buries a spot into your heart. Wishing that he could do that to you, you find a hand between your legs; not touching anything but it’s wedge between your thighs and any squeeze you give yourself, gives you small relief. But it’s not enough.

Bucky can barely keep his eyes on the road, which is dangerous given the fact that he’s impulsively turning left and right to find the nearest empty parking lot he could find. His head turning to you, your body slouched against the seat, head leaning on the window and he catches the way you lick your tongue. “Fuck.” He mutters underneath his breath, his pants are straining against his wishes and it getting harder to concentrate.

Luckily, he’s finally parked the car behind some old apartment complex. The back parking lot empty as it can be without any chance of being seen from passing strangers.

He unbuckles your seat and you already know what to do. Practically crawling on to him, you feel the bulge in pants rub against your wet mound. The sensation a little too much as you are sensitive. You have to hold on to his biceps to collect yourself, Bucky’s brows furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong, Peach?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Just - Let me - Give me a second.” You struggle to find your words but your actions speak for itself as your hips grind against him.

With only a piece of cotton between you, you’re really get the best out of it. Bucky on the other hand has something different in his mind. “Fuck me.” You say through breathless pants. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me.” And he gives in.

You lift your hips for a moment to give Bucky the opportunity to free himself from the confinement of his thick jeans. He’s already pink and leaking and you can’t help but whimper. “Please, daddy, Please.” You sound so needy, so desperate that it’s embarrassing.

He doesn’t even remove your panties, instead he moves them out of the way as he plunged into your slick heat. With such easy, he groans at how wet you feel around him. You let out a small moan as he bottoms out inside you, hitting you all the way to your roof. For a moment, both of you don’t move; just sitting there with him inside you to reel in the feeling of being full.

“God, you’re such trouble.” Bucky mutters as he feels you involuntarily clench around him.

With ragged breathing, you giggle at his words but a moan slips out as you move in his lap, causing him to dig further into your womb.

“You little shit.” You mutter and the tight grip on your chin makes you look up at Bucky, his eyes filled with black circles and there’s something rather feral in him.

“What was that?”

“I said you’re a little shit. Making me wait to be fucked. I need it now.” The whine that leaves you makes Bucky wrap his hand around your throat, squeezing to cut your airway. The smirk forming on your face gives him the consent he needs to continue, his hand on your throat plus the hand that’s pushing your tank top up makes you lose all of your focus to think.

With the fact that he’s not moving, his free hand plays with your exposed breast. Twisting the perked up buds in his fingers, you moan and he feels it vibrate against his hand. “Fuck me.” You groan, just somehow.

“Say it again.” He demands, hands moved to the other breast to give it attention.

“Fuck me, please.” You’re able to say it with his hand against your throat, although it comes out ragged and slurred

He litters your neck with kisses, hoping that he doesn’t leave hickeys again as the one that he left a few days prior we’re still healing. “Don’t.”

“I won’t.” And he doesn’t. He kisses, he licks, but he never goes against your wishes. Once he’s done with kissing you, he doesn’t even bother with a warning as he pulls you up and then down on him. The sudden friction making a gasp erupt from your lips. His hand leaving your throat to help him slam you up and down on his cock.

The erratic moans that fill the car urges Bucky on. His groans are small but they’re there and you lean down to swallow them. Tongues dancing as they fight for dominance, eventually, you’re able to win it.

Eventually, Bucky grows tired of holding you, even with his strength and stamina, he lets himself cool down and let you do some work. You’re grinding your hips against him, clit rubbing against his pubic bone. “Bucky, oh my god.”

“Y’gonna cum?”

A poor and strangled yeah leaves you as you nod vigorously at his question. Eyes closed and mouth open in anticipation at the bubbling feeling in your abdomen. Bucky holds your cheeks, pulling you down to bury your face into his shirt. Hands gripping the soft fabric as you bounce on him.

“Mmh.” And you feel yourself at the edge and Bucky can feel it as you start panting, breathing becoming rigid and short.

“‘s okay, baby. Cum.”

Crying out in his arms, you let go and come, your senses going into overdrive and you can’t help but moan into his shirt. Legs shaking and hips bucking. Shortly after, Bucky comes as well. Spilling into the depths of you, you feel him fill you up. You’re definitely going to ruin your panties

“Baby, you good?” He pulls you up and sees the salty tears fall from your pretty face, cheeks red and hot. Your tits are bare and out and Bucky takes the initiative to pull down your tank top.

“Yeah. That was really good.”

“Yeah?”

A smile on your face flashes him and he presses a soft kiss to your bitten red lips. Tasting the peppermint gum he probably had hours prior while waiting for you.

“Should probably eat, shouldn’t we?” Giggling, you nod at his suggestion.

—

“Pineapple does belong on pizza!” You play a fake offence as Bucky tells you the opposite, box of pizza in his hands as he takes it to your seat.

“No, it doesn’t. That’s disgusting.” He says and you have to gasp at his hurtful words, a hand to your heart as you look at him mouth open. Shaking his head, he sits beside you in the booth.

You watch him with careful eyes as he lifts the lid of the box, the steam of the meal dissolving into the air. Your mouth practically drops to the floor as you stare into the box, the cheese melted and drooping to the side and the small rectangular bits of bacon and pepperoni sprinkled generously all over the surface.

“You good, babe?” Bucky’s deep chuckle snaps you out of your gaze, heart eyes still stuck on the pizza, you nod slowly as an answer.

“She’s so pretty.”

“She is.”

Bucky stares a little longer at you and you’re too busy gawking at your food a little too long. It’s only until that Bucky’s hand reaches inside the box, ripping a triangular piece from the circle.

“Hey!” He laughs as you look at him with wide eyes, those doe eyes staring up at him in shock. “At least ask first.”

Bucky raises a brow at you, mouth filled with Joe’s delicious pizza and you take liberty and tip a piece for yourself. “And what if I don’t?”

“You’re not fucking me for the next week.” You simply say, chewing on the cheese as it sticks to your teeth. The savoury taste and warm feeling covering your sensitive tastebuds.

Bucky’s mouth goes slack and he looks at you, as if to test your bluff. But you don’t budge as you continue to chew your meal, taking small sips of your drink. “You wouldn’t.”

But just as you could open your mouth, a trio of boys who looked about your age walked up to your table. The boy who seemed to be the leader of the group, standing closer while the rest stood a farther away from them but still close enough to hear. Both heads looking up, Bucky furrows his brows in confusion. The question of what did these boys wanted floating around.

“Can we help you?” Bucky asked, his pizza set down and you saw how his biceps bulged out of his shirt as he flexed his arm.

“Er - I - Sorry, sir, was just asking for your daughter’s number. Saw the two of you across the room. Thought she was really pretty.”

And the way Bucky’s eyes buldges out of his head makes you laugh to yourself. Although, being called as his daughter makes you realize the reality of your relationship. “My what?”

The boy’s words stutter as he tries to speak up once again. “Your daughter, sir.”

“Oh, I’m with someone. I’m sorry.” You speak up, fearing that Bucky might punch this poor boy in the face by the way he was clenching his tattoo painted fist. The boy’s smile drops but he seems understanding, he still flashes you a smile before excusing himself.

“Well, it’s worth the try. Have a good day.” He says as he walks away with his friends from your table.

“Little shit.” Bucky mutters and you have to laugh. Hand on your stomach as your lean back into your seat, replaying as Bucky gets called your father. “‘s not funny.”

Through heavy breathes, you managed to say, “Yes, it is.” And a laugh erupts once more as Bucky scowls at you. Once your able to catch your breath, you place your head on his shoulder in a poor effort to calm him down. “Baby, it’s okay.”

“They think I’m your dad!”

“I mean, you are old enough.”

Bucky huffs a cloud of air and continues to eat his pizza in silent. Pouting, you try to apologize by flashing your doe eyes. “Sorry, daddy.” He scowls at you with fiery eyes and you can’t help but laugh, throwing your head back. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” You try to make it up to him by pouting your lips, somehow, pressing your breasts together in order to form a cleavage. Yet somehow, that wasn’t enough.

Bucky continues to eat his pizza, while scrolling on his phone. Unbothered by your apology, you take it further. “Bucky...” You drag out his name, as well the hand that you place on his thigh, dragging it further up to his—

His head snaps, turning back to you, clearly his attention back and focused. “I’m sorry for laughing.” Your hand hikes up higher, nearing the seam of his jeans, which his cock seems to be straining against.

Caught up in the act of trying to tease Bucky, you forget that you’re in a public area, with people around. Although, idea of getting caught palming a man who looks like he’s old enough to be your father pushed you further. “Peach, behave.” He demands and when you don’t follow, he has to physically stop you by holding you by your wrist.

Groaning, you rip your hand away from him, sitting back. “You’re no fun.”

“We’re in public.” He states.

Rolling your eyes at him, you take a bite of your pizza. Mouth full, you snap back at him. “Yet it didn’t stop you from fucking me in your car literally 20 minutes ago.” The sass dripping from your voice sends Bucky to snap at you, shutting the lid of the pizza box and pulling you out of the booth. Wrist in his tight grip, he brings the two of you back in the parking lot.

“Where we going?” You say out of breathe in effort of trying to catch up with Bucky. Throwing the pizza box into the back seat, definitely shaking the pineapple pizza to its core, he buckles you into your seat as his eyes refuses to give you attention.

“Your spoiled ass needs to get punished.” Hands gripping the stick with a grip so tight you can feel the leather strain against his hold and you have to literally bite back a moan as you watch him concentrate. The scowl on his face reassuring you that you’re totally going to get it when you get home, but to be fair, you have no care in the world as it’s Bucky you’re talking about.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which secrets are almost spilled during a dinner with the barnes family.

His lips melted against yours, soft, pretty, and pink. He tasted like pineapple, a reminder of your previous meal. The smile that he plays on his faces makes you reciprocate the same gesture. Hands cupping you’re reddened cheek, thumbs stroking over the soft skin.

“I have to go, Bucky.” You tell him through a mumble, cashing him to pull away from the kiss. With foreheads pressed and lungs deprived from air, the two of you offer each other with affectionate eyes.

“I know.” He sighs and it’s making it difficult to pull away. You look at him properly, forehead away from his and you’re able to get a good look at his proper form. His brown locks long and curled, small tendrils framing his face; cheeks growing with days old stubble. It suits him. He looks good.

“I’ll see you in,” your eyes reads your watch, “an hour.” The sigh that escapes Bucky makes you want to stay, but you can’t. You have a dinner to prepare to and parents to come home to. Parents who’re wonder what their beloved daughter has been doing for the whole day. Unbeknownst to them, you’ve been spending your hours through shared moans and kisses with Bucky.

“Okay.” He simply says, the grip on your hand loosening but failing to let go.

“Baby, you’ve got to let go.”

He smiles, knowing what hes doing. The roll of your eyes makes you laugh, lifting his veiny hands to your lips, pressing fragile kiss on his pale skin. Each press of your lips on to his knuckles making your stomach drop, the butterflies living in them soaring once more. “We good?” You ask, once finished with your actions.

He nods gently, removing his hand from yours and you can freely grab your bag off your lap to open the passenger door. You step out, ready to walk into the stone path. You get a few steps in but you’re quick to turn around. “Wait!” Running, you return to Bucky’s side of the car, which is windows down.

“Here, forgot this.” You tiptoe, hess just barely in the car and press a quick peck to his lips which were once pink are now red. “Bye, Bucky.”

He watches you run back to the front door, only to trip on a stupid outlier in the pathway. A curse leaving your lips as you nearly trip, your whole heart stopping. Bucky doesn’t know what to do with you. You’re young, that’s for sure, and he’s not getting younger. His own sister’s words replying in his mind, to think of a future with you. It’ll be frowned upon. 

He knows you’re a woman, who’s legally adult. But still unbeknownst to things that Bucky has experienced. But he never plans to do anything she’s uncomfortable with.

Bucky hates to admit it but it’s only a matter of time till the rose gold glasses come off and the two of you will have to face the harsh truth. You have time, Bucky believes that he doesn’t. So he sits for a while in his car, fingers tapping the leather covering of his steering wheel as he contemplates his decision to talk to you about this whole relationship.

He sits for a while, deep in thought. That is, until his phone buzzes. It’s from you.

 _It’s sad that you won’t be able to see this tonight._ The text reads, along with an image attached to it. Bucky’s curiosity taps the image, opening it to a picture of you already changed into a black lacey lingerie set. One that he hasn’t seen before. Matching ribbons sprouting from the waistband of the panties.

 _You wearing that for me, Peach?_ He asks, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. His thoughts going into overdrive as he thinks of the difficulty of trying to keep it in his pants during dinner.

_Yes, daddy._

Fuck. He’s so fucked. He’s already straining against his pants and he feels like a teenager again. His sex drive over the roof ever since he’s gotten with you. For sure the moment he gets home, the running water from the shower won’t be able to drown out his moans as he touches himself to the picture of you.

—

Rebecca awaited for his brother by the stairs, dressed in a simple collared shirt and mom jeans. Hearing the steps, she groans at her brother’s late arrival. “Jesus, your ass took so long.”

“Watch that mouth, Becca.”

Rolling her eyes, the two siblings follow each other out the door. “You better not do anything stupid tonight with Y/n.” The way your name falls from his own sister’s mouth feels bitter and sour, her intentions laced with hatred and he hates his sister’s anger towards you. Her best friend. Well, he suppose ex-best friend now. Considering her lack of communication with you.

“I’m not.” He simply says before knocking on the oak wood of your home.

Hearing faint footsteps, he watches as the door in front of him swings open; revealing you behind it. Bucky’s lips turn upwards and he nearly leans in, wanting to greet you with a kiss but he stops himself before he gets to. “Daddy! Bucky and Becca are here!” Yelling over your shoulder, you step out of the way, letting the siblings in.

Removing their shoes, Rebecca mutters something under her breath that you couldn’t understand. But Bucky did and it made him send a glare her way. You don’t interrupt their conflict and rather force a smile, waiting for your dad to come to the living room to greet his guest.

“Finally, you’ve made it. Thought we were gonna starve waiting for you.” Your dad jokes and you internally cringe but force a laugh. You see the smile Bucky gives your father, giving him a hug and a pat on the back after. All of you lead into the kitchen, where your mom is moving all the food onto the dinning table.

“Y/n, set up the spoon and forks please.” She asks kindly and you obey, looking for the good spoons and forks and you can’t help but glance at Bucky from the corner of your eye. He’s laughing along with your dad, probably some stupid inside joke.

“Hey, Y/n, how was your first day?” Rebecca’s voice catches your attention and you smile up at her, thankful that she’s still as friendly as she were when you knew her; always concerned about people’s lives, whether it be bad or good. But with Rebecca, it’s always the latter.

“It was great actually. People were friendly. My professor isn’t a dickhead and actually cares about his student.” Laughly lightly at your honest answer, Rebecca smiles. “Have you applied to universities yet?” You asks.

Rebecca nods, taking a seat on one of the barstools that sits in front of the kitchen island. “Yeah, I applied to my first choice, which is Columbia. But I doubt that I’ll get in, though it’s worth a try.” A shrug of her shoulders makes your frown at her lack of confidence. Rebecca Barnes is a smart woman, much like her brother, which they both got their intelligence from their mother. You don’t doubt anything when it comes to Rebecca’s education, hell you’d bet a whole lot of money that she’ll probably get in.

“Don’t. You’re really smart. Smarter than your brother actually.” You chuckle at your joke and she giggles, agreeing because she knows how awfully stupid Bucky can get sometimes.

“She’s what now?” Bucky’s voice rumbles through the room and your cheeks visibly redden. Rebecca sticks out her tongue at her brother, a big fuck you to Bucky.

“She said I’m smarter than you, birdbrain.” Rebecca replays your words, and by the time everyone is back at the dining room, you’ve finished your chore.

“Doubt that.” Bucky says and you smile softly at him, his own lips curving upwards after. It’s a small but soft moment only the two of you can share, you try not to express too much or the risk of getting caught is waved in the air.

“Should we eat?” Your dad asks and everyone shares the same answer.

With your dad sitting at the head of the table, your mom sits by his left and you on his right. Bucky sitting across from you with his sister right by his side. Conversations converse as everyone share plates and meals around, the steak your dad has cooked an hour or two prior looking tasty.

Of course, with your dad being sentimental, he brings up the first time he ever drove you to school. First day of kindergarten, elementary school, high school, and now university. He boasted about how great his daughter was. Crying about how big his baby now and you can’t help but roll your eyes at your own father, still treating you like a child. Bucky smiles across from you, the conversation taking place hours earlier about your own father.

While everyone enjoyed their food, talking amongst themselves, you eye Bucky across from you. In an effort to tease him, the gravy that falls deliciously over your steak drips down onto your chest. Your cleavage clearly open for the public but only reserved for Bucky to look. “Yikes.” You say, laughing to yourself. Not having a napkin near you, you remove the sauce with a swipe of your fingers, licking off the gravy from your fingers

Bucky, for the most part is quiet, he’s trying his best to suppress his semi from forming and you’re really making this difficult for him. So he tries to converse with your dad and mom, talking about their jobs and blah blah blah.

Huffing, you continue eating. Eyes scowling at Bucky and you catch his sister staring back at you with eyes that were dipped in disgust. Uncomfortable, you reach for the salt, but it’s too far. “Daddy, can you please pass the salt?”

Two hands reach for the shaker and both hands collectively stop in their tracks. The room goes silent. Looking up, you see Bucky’s hand reaching for the shaker, the fear in his eyes contrasting the stoic look on his face. Rebecca stares at her brother’s fuck-up, realizing that he may be done for it. But when your father is the one who breaks that silence, the three of you breathes out a sigh that you weren’t even aware of holding.

“Anyways, back to what I was saying.” Snatching the salt from your dads hands, you drown out everything else as your heart beats out of your chest. Your father’s voice booms through the thick air, breaking silence and forgetting the peculiar scenario that had just unfolded in front of him.

“Excuse me.” Your voice interrupts your dad’s monologue, heads looking at you and your mom places a hand in your back.

“Where you going?” She asks, in which you reply with a poor excuse.

“Washroom.” She nods and lets you go.

Bucky watches as you walk away from the dinning room, head turning back to catch his gaze. He tried to listen to your dad’s poorly told story, something about his co-worker, or the farmers market. Hell, he doesn’t know nor is he paying attention. But the buzz of his phone catches his curiosity.

_What the fuck was that?_

His brows furrow as he reads the text you sent. _It was a mistake. I thought you called out for me._ He answers and he knows it’s going to land him in hot water.

_No, I called for my dad!_

He hears his best friend call out for his name, realizing that he wasn’t paying attention. “Buck, remember, Nat?” Mentioning her name catches his focus now. The mention of his ex-wife is something he never really talks about.

Bucky raises a brow at his best friend, questioning why his former wife had been brought up, despite knowing that he is not fond of the memory. “What about her?”

_Bucky!_

“We we’re ‘round downtown, seems that she’s in town.” His interest is peaked up, wondering why his ex-wife would be in New York City, seeing that she is the one left him to move to California.

_Bucky!_

“Y’know why she’s in town?” He feels his phone buzz again but his curiosity is getting the best out of him.

“Wait, Auntie Nat is back in town?” Rebecca speaks up, a smile plastered on her face as she hears that her favourite person is back.

“Apparently.”

You walk back to the dinning room, not bothering to wash your hands seeing that you never went to the bathroom anyways. A scowl is playing on your face as Bucky choose to ignore you. Heads turning to see who’s entering, your mom smiles at you as you sit back beside her. With your appetite gone, you listen to the conversation.

“Hey, did you hear that Auntie Nat is back in town?” Your heart drops and the smile that you were playing when you entered the room was now gone. Your eyes found Bucky’s blue ones across from you.

You’re not oblivious to Bucky’s past relationships. Rebecca had told you about his previous marriage which she had deviously dubbed as “The Incident”. You remembered Natasha, she didn’t stick around for long, seeing that she decided to move to LA than stay here with her husband. Prioritizing her career over her family. No one really saw her again. Nor had she made contact. So with everyone hearing this new, everyone shares the same question.

“Cool, know what she’s here for?” Your dad shakes his head, answering you silently.

“Probably for some business stuff. You know Nat, she’s not one to make impulsive decisions.”

You couldn’t help but think that she did when she married Bucky. To be fair, you couldn’t blame Bucky. When Rebecca had shown you who this woman who broken Bucky’s heart, you had never expected her to be a goddess with long luscious red hair and she was really smart. In fact, she graduated from Harvard, pursued law. You couldn’t help but wonder what had gone wrong.

—

Dinner was a disaster, well, physically it wasn’t. But Bucky’s constant ignorance made you stir with anger, creating a storm of bitchiness. You rarely talked for half the dinner, even when Rebecca tried to converse with you about the boys in her class. The ones that are always trying to hit on her. Although she mentioned a name, Peter Park? Parker Pete? It didn’t matter seeing that you didn’t care.

Nearing nine, your dad helped mom clean the table. The thought of what Bucky was doing at the moment running through your mind. You’re suppose to hate him, be angry at him for ignoring you for the remainder of dinner. But the moment your phone buzzes with a notification from him, you don’t hesitate to answer.

_Meet me out by the park in ten minutes._

You should’ve said no. Showed Bucky that ignoring you wasn’t going to get him anywhere. But instead, you keep falling on to your knees for him.

_Okay._

The ten minutes soon come and you’re able to sneak out your window again this time. It’s colder outside. Perhaps it’s fall calling. But you see him outside, still swinging on the swing like he had done a few nights prior. You had to suppress a smile when you saw him, trying to ignore the way your heart leaped and butterflies soared.

Bucky notices how you don’t sprung on to him, latching on like a koala in heat. Instead he watches you march towards him, arms crossed and your facial expression looking not too happy.

So with that, he keeps his distance. He doesn’t force a hug but instead offers one. You don’t decline it, which Bucky is thankful for, but you don’t wrap your arms around the way you used to. “Hey, Peach.” It’s a mumble as he speaks into your hair, coconut shampoo being sniffed into his nose.

“Hi.” Simply answering him, he knows you’re mad. Or upset. Or both.

“What’s wrong.”

“Nothing.”

 _Liar._ “Don’t lie to me. I know you’re mad.” He says, pushing you away so he can properly look at you through the dark. You barely even look him in the eye, instead you focus on his cologne instead. Mixed with sandalwood and jasmine. “Hey.” His finger under your chin makes you look up but you don’t dare look him in the eye.

“Why are you like this? Just tell me.” He sighs and you can’t help but want to yell at him for being so arrogant.

Smacking his hand away from your face, you send him a glare and reinforce your stance but crossing your arms. “You almost got caught tonight. Actually, we almost got caught and you did nothing but blatantly ignore me when I wanted to talk.”

“I was talking with your father.” He tries to reason.

“Yeah! I know! About Natasha!”

Bucky scoffs and realizes what you’re truly mad about. You’re not mad. You’re jealous. And he states the fact. “You’re jealous.” The realization hits him and a smirk explodes on to his face.

Offended, you glare at him. “What? No, I’m not.”

Bucky lets out a small laugh, knowing that you are and you’re afraid of telling him. Embarrassed of the fact that she’s jealous of his ex-wife. “Yeah you are. Look at your face, Peach.” His palms cover your cheeks, feeling the hotness of the blood flowing to them. “They’re so hot.”

“Stop it.” You say but you’re all words and no play.

Bucky shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Stop it.” You say again, but your resistance is faltering with every press of his lips to your skin. Soon after, his lips find your own and you don’t fight him anymore. You kiss him back, furthering the action by lick his bottom lip for consent. In which he he gives you, but he’s the one who dominates.

With tongues dancing, he’s the first one to pull back due to the lack of air. His breathing is heavy and so is his eyes. His hold on you don’t loosen, instead they tighten and you feel him pull you closer to him. “Say, you still wearing that number on ya?” His Brooklyn accent slips out and it sends a shiver through your body.

A smile erupts on your face, fingers dancing along the back of his neck. Your resolve and resistance for this man thrown out the window form just one kiss. “Why don’t you find out?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which bucky has a change of heart.

Red bitten lips and stolen kisses lead to be pressed up against the tree. Bucky’s lips pressed up against yours and you feel him hesitate, for some reason that’s unknown to you. Pulling back, you stare at him with brows pushed together. “What?”

“I think you should go home.” His answer takes you back, seeing that he just spent the last five minutes making out with you against a tree behind a park. Or the fact that his hand hiked up further into your shirt.

“What?” Bucky sighs, the pinging guilt in his chest as he pushes you away. It’s his sister’s words that are talking. To pursue you if he ever sees a future, he wants to see future with you, but it doesn’t come. It doesn’t come to mind and it scares him. It’s scares him everytime his heart leaps out of his chest when he sees you smiling at him. It scares him how much his stomach churned when he had seen you when you had opened the door for him. It scares him that he won’t be able to hold without having the fear of judgement of others nor his own family.

So he says no. He listens to his sister, knowing that it’s for the best.

“You should go home. It’s getting late.” He answers once again, but it doesn’t give him happy replies.

“I know what you said. I’m not deaf. But why? We’re having so much fun.” Your voice turns into a poor whine, something that Bucky has gotten used to.

He looks right you, eyes filled with guilt and you can see right through his baby blues. “We were.” He says, his tattooed left hand grasping your own. “But it’s been a long night. You have school tomorrow and I other things to worry about.”

Scoffing, you know what other things he means. “By other things, you mean Natasha, don’t you?” His silence answers your question. Nodding, you rip your hand away from his and as much as you would hate to admit it, your own actions struck you hard in the heart. “Maybe you’re right. I should go home.”

And you do.

Bucky watches as you march back to your place. The way your face dropped as you realized what other things he needed to do. It hurts him as much as it hurts you but it’s for the best. Do you see a future with her?

He wants to rip his head off, the conflict running through his brain along with his sister’s words. So he brings himself to the comfort of his own home, his own sister in the living room as if her spiritual presence wasn’t enough, it was like the Gods were playing a cruel joke with his heart.

“Did you do it?” She asks.

His silence answer her question, a hum leaving Rebecca’s lips as she realizes he listened to her. It’s her way of saying it’s for the best.

He tries to sleep it off. It didn’t work. Seeing that he’s wide awake in the middle of the night, wondering if you were sleeping or in conflict with your own heart.

In which you do bring yourself to bed, tears welling and you wonder if Bucky’s feelings for his ex-wife might return. Maybe she’s the reason why his kiss didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t, right? After, he’s been fucking you. Only you. Calling you mine and only his. There’s no way.

But either way, deep down inside you, you’d still be crawling back to him, on your knees, begging. That’s when it dawns on you.

You love Bucky. You’ve grown actual feelings for him.

Have for a long time and you’re heart physically hurts thinking about it. But you’re not going to crawl back this time. At least you’re going to try not to. It’s his turn to crawl back to you.

So you wait for him to message you, laying in the darkness of your room. Cold and oblivious, he never texts you back. You eventually fall asleep, seeing that his text isn’t going to come anything soon.

—

It’s a lie. You find yourself texting him again. It always end the same. He leaves you on read.

_Just passed my first test of the course :)_

Seen.

_Wanna go to Joe’s after class?_

Seen.

_Hope you’re having a good day, Bucky._

Seen.

You find yourself still looking at your phone with every notification three weeks later, thinking - no, hoping that he would respond. He doesn’t. He never does and it confuses you how from one night of shared kisses can lead to three weeks of no communication.

So you distract yourself with books and friends. Making excuses to your parents that you have to study and that you can’t make it for the weekday or weekend and that you’d be staying at friends. It’s only an excuse not to come home where you know Bucky would be. Its times like these you wished Rebecca was still with you and that she had not cut you off so you had a shoulder to cry on. But, no. Instead, she had turned her back on you; leaving you to your own demise.

You found yourself on a particular day after you finished your afternoon class, instead of going home directly, you choose take the scenic view of the city. Strolling along well known streets of New York, you stopped yourself at a coffee shop you always went to when around this part of the city. Despite their overpriced black coffee, they never failed to make delicious pastries.

Perhaps it was a way to distract yourself from the buzzing thoughts of Bucky, seeing thats it been nearly a month since you’ve heard or seen from him. Ever since your last encounter in the park, you couldn’t help but think if it was you who was the problem. You knew this was never going to last long, and you were right. But you were hoping it would’ve been longer than three weeks.

With a hand arm deep in your bag, looking for your wallet, you collide with the person in front of you in the line. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You instantly apologize, looking up to see long red hair in your face. Taking a step back, the person in front of your turns and the hand thats rummaging through your bag stops.

Natasha Romanoff stood in front of you, yet she doesn’t seem to have a clue who you are. “Oh, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it.” She says, her voice smooth and sultry and you feel a pang of jealous and self-insecurity. Her crimson lips turn upwards and her porcelain teeth are shown.

You send her a tight lipped smile, a forced one you may say. And she turns back around.

The line shortens until you’re next to order. When you do finish ordering and paying, you watch with a careful eye where Natasha goes when she picks up her order. What you see makes your heart ache, the true feeling of betrayal hitting you.

You see him. You see her. You see them together, sitting by the widow, across from each other. A smile plastered on Bucky’s face as she sits down in front of him.

She’s here. She’s the reason why he stopped talking to you. It’s because she’s here. She’s sitting across from him, holding his hand across from the fucking table. Holding his hand. The hand that once held your hand during nights where he had spent adoring your body. But not anymore.

Lost in your head, you’re only snapped out of it when your name is called out for your order. Hoping that he never heard you, you grab your coffee, sending a smile to barista and run out of the coffee shop.

Eyes welling up with tears, your find yourself crying down the streets. Small quiet sobs of betrayal falling down your cheek. Some people even look past you as if you’re insane. Everything feels and looks blurry, you can’t think and your chest physically hurts. You feel stupid. To think those lingering touches from Bucky would’ve mean anything. To think that with every night he spent beside the space on your bed that he must’ve felt the same. But it was just a response to keep you on his tail. To keep you wrapped around his finger.

You eventually take the subway back home. With redden and swollen eyes, you’re thankful that New Yorkers are immune to the weird shit that happen around. Not a single eye on you and you’re thankful.

Luckily, your parents aren’t home. At least not until a few hours, which you’d be gone for your next class anyways. It’s empty in the house, much like everything else in your heart. It’s cliche, yes, but it’s the truth when you just saw the man you love hold another woman’s hand.

Rebecca must’ve known about this, shouldn’t she? After all, she was close with Natasha before she left. So with the intent of gathering information, you text your (ex) best friend.

_Hey, Becca?_

_Yeah?_

You’re quite thankful that she actually answered this and you wonder why. But that question is saved for later as your more concern for why is a certain red head here in Manhattan. So you try to form a question, a sly one that doesn’t seem too forward.

_I heard from a few weeks ago dinner that Auntie Nat was back in the city. Heard anything from her yet?_

The three dots indicating that she was typing showed up. Now, you like Rebecca. She was a smart kid, she cared for her brother. And despite her age, she can pack a few punches in an argument. She’s always been the intellect. Even though sometimes she can get a little too much and that showed whenever you guys had an argument.

_Nope, nothing. Why? Have you seen her around?_

Liar. If you hadn’t just seen the two holding hands and smiling, you would have believe the girl. But she was lying and for what? For the safety of her brother’s ego? Her brother was old enough to stand up for himself. She shouldn’t have figured out in the first place by herself that Bucky was seeing Natasha if Bucky had the balls and talked to her like an adult instead of ghosting her instead. It was childish of Bucky and if he wasn’t going to act like an adult, then you would have to play the part.

_Nope! Not at all. But can you please do me a favour and tell your brother to meet me by the park tonight. It seems that he isn’t answering his phone._

_Oh, sorry, Y/n. Bucky is busy tonight. He’s working late at the firm._

_She lied. Again._

__Is he now?_ _

__Yeah, I’m sorry. But I’ll tell him you said hi or something._ _

__No need, I’ll talk to him myself._ _

_Rolling your eyes, you can’t believe that Rebecca would lie to you like that. It’s starting to seem like you can’t trust anyone in the Barnes family anymore._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which bucky tries to move on.

Bucky knew he had to do it, despite his own feelings, his sister had made some great points. She was right and he just hated to see you hurt. But after that night in the park, he knew there was no reversing what he had done.

He hated that it went on longer than it needed to be. He was just suppose to tell her that whatever they were doing, it needed to end, for the sake of both of them. But he had kissed you. He had pushed you against the tree and slipped a hand under your shirt. And he had his tongue down your throat. Now he would have to pay and watch your heart get torn. And it would be by his own doing.

Coming home that night, he thought he would be able to sleep his guilt off. Which he did, for a few hours or so. That is until rapid knocks erupted on his door. It was nearing midnight and he wondered who the fuck could it be. He thought of you but you’d be usually asleep by this hour unless you’re indulging him with risqué photos or midnight talks.

So he wallows down the stairs, raking his fingers through his curly hair and when he gets to the door, he looks through the hole. His sleepiness exiting through him as he realizes who’s behind his door.

“Natasha? Wh - What’re you doing here? It’s — ” He looks around the hallway for a clock. He does. “Like 12 in the night.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s not like me to make these inpulsive decisions but I was on my way back to my hotel till I realized I was near the area.”

“Couldn’t you have gone in the morning?” Bucky grumbles.

Natasha’s pale cheeks redden at the statement, seeing that it was rude of her to drop by in the middle of the night. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll come back.”

Bucky sighs because he’s too nice sometimes and he would hate the idea of Natasha or any woman going back home in the middle of the night. Especially in the streets of New York. “No, it’s fine. You’re here already. Come in.” He says, opening the door wider, stepping aside for the red-head to come in.

She walks in, her head doing a few turns, evaluating Bucky’s home. Natasha smiles to herself. “You haven’t changed a single thing here.” She says that as if it’s to imply something deeper than the lack of interior design.

“Yeah, don’t go thinking it’s because of you. I just don’t know how to decorate.” Bucky states, watching her as she turns on her heel, her eyes doing more than her words did.

“You live with Rebecca, don't you think she knew how to at least spice up your house?”

“Didn’t think it was that important.” Bucky implies, his words insinuate a message for her. There’s a silence as Natasha reels in his message for her. She really did hurt Bucky, there’s no denying that, but it’s been years and she’s hoping that he’s moved on as she did. “I’ll — Uh — I’ll set up the guest room.” She watches him walk up the stairs, a small smile on her face.

When he returns, he comes back with a change of clothes, it’s his sister’s clothes. The oversized shirt and one size too big shorts that she had bought and never returned. He had clothes that were near to Natasha size, but they were Y/n’s. He doesn’t feel comfortable to share them. So they stay folded in his drawers as a reminder of what she used to be.

“Goodnight, Tasha.” His use of her old nickname makes a smile erupt on her face. She watches him almost exit out the room, but she stops him before he can get out. He’s a little confused why she’s pulling him by the arm, but by the time he understands what’s going on, her pink lips are pressed against his own. He hesitated for a second but went with her lips, his hands holding her face closer to his. It’s only until the kiss deepens when her tongue licks over his bottom lip, asking for consent and entrance. In which, to his own surprise, he gives her.

They only pull back when the lack of air gets worse. They’re both panting, looking at each other with eyes seeming to be filled with soemthing that’s clouding their better judgment. Bucky is the first one to speak up. “We shouldn’t.” He means that he couldn't. Because of you, he doesn’t want to. But it’s also because of you that he spends that night entangled between bedsheets with Natasha.

Small whimpers and moans echoing through the room as he kisses her, as he tells her how much he missed this. But he lies. He lies to himself as he hides in the crook of her neck, toppling over his orgasm and spilling into her like nothing with you had happened.

—

It was supposed to be a one time thing. At least that’s what he told himself. But here he was, two weeks later, under the sheets, sweat dripping as he calms down from his orgasm. Natasha’s head settled on his bare chest, the sound of his singing heart beating against her ear.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” She announces, leaving a small silence as if she were waiting for Bucky to say something. But Bucky doesn’t and he continues to playing with her crimson hair, tossled and pull on during sex. “But I’ve extended my stay for another week. LA can wait.” Again, nothing.

So they lay there for a while until Bucky courages up a question. “Have you visited the Y/l/n’s yet?” 

Natasha shakes her head softly and presses a kiss to his chest. “Why not?” Bucky asks but he’s thankful she hadn’t, he wouldn’t be able to look at her again. After all, he’s the one who stopped talking to her. But it’s true. Your family was aware of Bucky and Natasha’s wedding as it came up in a conversation.

And with your father having a bold tongue, he expressed his distaste for Bucky’s failed marriage.

“Never liked them. Always looked at me with stink eyes.” Bucky can sense the whine in her voice and he internally cringes at it. It’s never the same when Y/n does it.

—

Rebecca finds out eventually. When Natasha sneaks out early in the morning, but Rebecca is there on the couch. Her eyes widen as she sees her brother’s ex-wife. Natasha stops in her steps expecting rebellion from the young girl but instead she’s faced with the opposite.

“Auntie Nat!” She exclaims and stumbles her way to the red-head.

Bucky hears his sister’s voice echo downstairs and he groans. So he throws on his clothes and heads downstairs, ready to be reprimanded by his sister about screwing his ex-wife. But no, instead she’s sitting with Natasha, laughing and giggling.

“You didn’t tell me you met up with Auntie Nat!” Her sister plays an offence and Bucky rolls his eyes at her.

“You’re not mad?” Bucky asks, confused to why his sister isn’t beating his ass for getting back with someone who clearly wasn’t right for him.

“Why would I be?”

Bucky doesn’t want to mention her name, the fear of Natasha finding out getting to him and so he drops the topic. He watches as his sister and former lover converse in what they like to call girl talk as Bucky prepares breakfast. It’s domestic. He likes it. But it doesn’t feel right even though Natasha is right there with him. He doesn’t get the same heart thumping feeling when he’s with you.

“James, you okay?” Natasha’s voice calls him out and he pretends a smile, and he nods.

—

He’s not going to deny that he misses Y/n. He’s seen her texts. The ones that she sends after class or every night before she goes to bed. He sees the small sentences ones, asking him about his day. But he also sees the paragraph long texts. Talking about her day and how it went.

His personal favourite is the one where she talks about passing her first test with a perfect. Boasting about how she was the many few who passed. His smile has never been wider that day as he read over the texts, all to be read but not to respond.

He wants to tell her how proud he is of her. He wants to show her by pressing his own two lips against her soft ones, tasting the honey lip balm she puts on constantly; claiming that she would rather die with soft lips than chapped ones. He laughed at her that day, telling her that no matter how chapped or soft, he’ll always kiss her. Thinking he was lying, she rolled her eyes and turned around in her bed, her back unfortunately facing him. Bucky Barnes made love that night.

Kisses pressed along the joint of where her shoulder and collarbone met, he whispered soft songs to her ear. Hands finding themselves between her legs, making her sing for him through small and delicate moans.

Bucky was sure he knew what he truly wanted that night.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which y/n tries to move on.

You replay as the smile on Bucky’s widens when he sits with Natasha. The memory is ingrained in your head, unable to remove as you to try anything and everything to forget the man who you hopelessly fell in love with. So stupid of you to do so. The one rule you failed to follow. You should’ve known that it never was going to happen.

But after that day, you’ve spent less and less at home. The thought of being near his home is enough to open up the crack in your heart.

So you find yourself at a club in New York City, wearing your best dress that’s sure to turn some heads of both men and women. In fact, it did catch one girl’s attention, her foxy eyes scanning your body from her seat at the bar, the bar where you’re not allowed to order anything yet. But thanks to the tequila shots previous men had ordered in effort to seduce you, you find yourself tipsy.

Swaying hips in the dance floor as you sing to the song that’s blasting through your ears, eyes locked with the woman across from the bar. Her lips irked into a smile as she watches you touch yourself. All thoughts of Bucky are gone as the woman finds herself dancing with you, hands on top of yours as she guides your hands down your waist. Her mouth near your ear and for a moment, just a moment, sobriety comes back and talk.

“I have a boyfriend.” You lie to the gorgeous woman.

Her hands falter and drop. “Then why’re you out here dancing like a goddess?” She asks, hearing her inviting voice echos into your ear.

You grab her hands, telling her to continue her previous actions and she takes it as consent. Her hands back to roaming your body all over again. “Because he’s with another woman right now. Probably fucking her like the way he fucked me.” Your voice becomes slurred, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

The mysterious woman places a much needed kiss on your exposed shoulder, sending chills down your body. “Then break up with him. You deserve someone better.” She says and she’s right. The mysterious woman is right and your adrenaline has never been this high.

So you let her hand fall further down till they reach the hem of your dress. “You good, baby?” She asks, kissing your neck, letting her touch tease you a little bit. She asks for permission and a small pathetic moans falls from your red bitten lips, tell her to continue. So she does. Slipping her hand up your dress, teasing you through black lacy underwear.

She makes you forget about Bucky that night as she fingers you through the crowd, holding you against her chest and whispering soft things through your ear.

Eventually, she separates from you as you finish your orgasm. Her lips pulled up into a smile, you watch her as she struts back to the bar, looking down at something and returns back to you. Hands pulling your head closer and she presses a tongue dancing kiss. Once she pulls away, with her red lip stick still intact, she hands you a piece of paper with numbers on it.

She leans in, “For when you finally breakup with him.” She says, smiling as she walks away.

You hold on to the paper dearly, genuinely thinking about calling this woman. But Bucky comes first. He hasn’t made it official but he has made it very clear that you and him are done. But seeing that he doesn’t want to be an adult and talk to you about, you’ll have to be the one who ends it.

So you find yourself sitting in a bathroom stall, phone clutched between your hand as you decide what to say to the man who broke your heart. “We’re done, Bucky.” You cringe at yourself, shaking you head as you try again. “We’re done, Bucky.” Nodding, it seems better than the last one.

Taking a breath in and out, you press his contact. His profile picture the one you took of you and him in bed, hair tossled due to previous actions but Bucky never looked so delicate before.

_“Bucky?” Your voice is a whisper but it contrast what you’re trying to do, which is waking him up. With his face pressed into your pillow, you smile as you stare at him for a moment; taking in his features. His two day old stubble littered with grey hairs and you run a finger across his cheek. “Psst! Bucky!”_

_He doesn’t hear you and so you devise another plan, one that’s for sure is bound to wake him up. So Bucky wakes up with a certain girl on top of him, her soft lips pressed over his face and he squeezes her hip. “Well, this is a nice way to wake up.” You smile, realizing that your plan worked._

_“Finally, you’re up. Now smile!” Bucky furrows his brows in confusion, but his question is answered when he looks up and sees you woth your phone out. Taking a photo with your face smushed against his. “Look, we’re so cute.” You show him the photo and he smiles at the image._

_“Yes, you are.”_

The phone rings twice, thrice, and your heart stops as you hope you he doesn’t answer. So this way it’s easier for you to break your heart, telling him that it’s the end. But the odds are against your favour for the night and he picks up.

“Hello?” His voice is rough, he seems out of breath and you just know what he’s been up to. So you well up your tears and your heartache to stand up to him, to do what the mysterious woman had told you to do. You deserved better and Bucky wasn’t going to give you that. “Hello?” He asks again, snapping you out of your trance.

“Hi, Bucky.” You smile against the phone and you’re thankful he can’t see the pain etched on your face.

“Y/n? What’re you calling for?” You hear him shift, his bed creaking.

You wipe the tears that are building up in your eyes, sniffing as well and you make sure he can hear you. He stays silent though, as he usually would. “Since you don’t want to man up, I’m doing this myself.” It’s clear that sober you is straying farther and farther away as you talk. “Don’t interrupt me when I say we’re over, we’re done. You don’t want to talk to me, fine. But basically cheating me on me with your ex-wife. That’s a low for you, Bucky. So pardon my french, but fuck you. Thats really good french but do what you do best, leave. I just hope she’s a better fuck than me.” The call ends on that note.

You don’t let him have a say because he has no right. After all, he’s the one who decided to ghost you. So you let out your pent up anger, crying in a bathroom stall of a club and you hear clicks of heels against the tile as groups of girls walk in. They stop, whispering as they confirm that they can hear crying.

“Babe, you good in there?” A girl asks, knocking on your stall. You courage up and wipe the tears that fall and stain your cheeks.

“Yes, I’m okay. It’s just been a rough night.” You explain, stuttering as you go.

“You sure? Wanna come out and dance it out with us?” You smile at another’s girl suggestion. It would be nice to have a little fun right now, to forget anything that had to do with Bucky.

“Sure, I can use a little bit of a distraction.”

You forget about everything that night as you dance with girls you don’t even know. Swaying hips left and right and taking tequila shots from desperate men. You’re drunk, clearly as the girls help you back into their car, their designated driver offering to drive you back home.

—

“Who was that?” Natasha’s voice rumbles through the room, her face pressed up against his bare back as he sits up on his bed. He feels her cold touch, flinching away from her, she takes offence. 

“Nat, I think you should leave.” He says and she’s surprised.

Her face turns pale, which seems impossible seeing how pale the woman already was. “Excuse me?” She says but Bucky doesn’t replay his words because he knows damn well that she knows what he said. She scoffs, knowing who called him. “It’s her isn’t it?”

Bucky stills. “What?”

“I know it was her who called you, James.” She says again, sitting up on his bed, sheets wrapped around her to hide her dignity. “I know what’s going on between you two.”

“How?” He asks, genuinely confused on how she managed to find our after being so careful with his actions. He never does anything that’s too much in public or when around his sister. He knows to be careful because he values you and himself too much. So he watches as Natasha follows what he asked, grabbing her thrown clothes from the floor and starts putting them on.

“Rebecca told me. She explained everything, told me how you slept with her best friend, who’s also Y/f/n’s daughter. Then claimed that I was better suited for you than her.” She says. “I mean, I like to think I am but that’s in the past now.”

“I’m sorry.” He lies and she can see through him.

She shakes her head, not excusing him but rather it’s because she feels bad for him. “No, you’re not.” Laughing, she puts her shirt back on and looks at him. “If you were, you wouldn’t have slept with the poor girl and came running to me. I’m not a rebound, James. Nor is Y/n. You’re just lucky Y/f/n’s hasn’t found out.”

“I know you’re not.” He says.

Natasha doesn’t believe that, she knows she’s a rebound. She’s been aching the same thing he’s been yearning, so they’re both at fault here. But she’s not going to be the reason why Bucky lying to himself. So she’s going to let him go because there’s no future with him anymore, even if he’s fucked her multiple times. His heart is set out on someone else and it’s not her.

“Bye, James.”

He watches Natasha walk away from his life again. Now hopefully, given the chance, he hopes that’s he’s not too late with you.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which everything comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, this is a different ending than the one on tumblr, but honestly im not entirely sure how to end it. there's also sequel to this that im still working on, so if you would like that, please comment below.

The night is young and you feel the effects of the alcohol in your system. It’s stirring through your bloodstream and it’s stirring with your sobriety as well. The sounds of the girls yelling to Miley Cyrus’s Party in the USA ringing through your ear. “Y/n! Is this your house?” The brunette yells over the loud off note singers in her car.

She looks at you through the view finder and you lazily nod. Once she pulls over, you try to announce your exit to your new found friends, seeming that you guys danced in the club and shared each other Snapchats. They all collectively stop singing, except for one blonde and the girl beside her nudges her arm to shut up. “Bye, guys.” You smile at them and they all yell your name, waving as you fall out of the car.

“Text us! Okay?” You yell back at them, reassuring that you will text them once you’re sober enough.

So you’re alone in the street of your house, your heels are off and you feel the cold ground of the pavement. Your bag hangs off your shoulder, filled with your phone, lipstick, credit cards, and the mysterious girl’s number. But your drunkenness takes over you and you realize that Bucky’s home is just a minute walk from yours.

In your mind, he deserves what he’s going to get. But if you were sober, you’d probably punch yourself for what you’re about to do.

With feet black, you march your way to his pathway. To see Bucky’s black Mercedes in the front, you know he’s home and he’s going to hear you. You scowl at his home, the thought of what used to be making you gag. He doesn’t deserve you, the mysterious girl’s words rumble through your head and your eyes start to fill with pent up tears.

“Fuck him.” You say to yourself, well more like you reassure yourself. “Fuck him. Fuck Bucky. Fuck. Fuck.” At this point, you’re punching his bush of plants. Yelling bitter words at his group of plants and flowers as if they can hear you. But once you feel like his plants has been roughened up, you look back up at his front entrance. Windows all black except for one and you know, you know that’s his room because you’ve shared it multiple times with him.

“Fuck you, Bucky! Fuck you!” You focus your hate on him now, yelling with all your might thag he may be able to hear you. No, in fact, you want him to hear you. You want him to hear the pain he’s inflicted on you. “Fuck you!” The screams turn into gargled cry and while you’re too caught up in your own bubble, you don’t notice that the windows in his home light up; concerned for the outcry outside their street.

In that moment, you fail to see Bucky’s figure in this bedroom, looking over his front lawn. Your drunken words are repeated like a broken record player, with the tears mixed with mascara falls down your cheeks staining them with black water. “Y/n, please calm down.” The voice that goes through your ears makes you look up at who could be your angel. But it’s him and you push him back.

“No, fuck you.” You slap his chest, in an effort to push him away but his grip on you is tight as he holds you in a hug. Your face against his soft cotton blue shirt, the scent of his laundry detergent entering your nose and it’s familiar. “No, let me go. Please.” The pleas in your voice breaks his heart in half. “No, cheater. I hate you.” The crack in your voice replicates the one in his chest. “I hate you.”

“I know, I fucked. But please, come in. It’s dangerous outside.” He pleads with your drunken self, he doesn’t really have a choice but to bring you in because he’s not really going to leave you alone in his front lawn. Nor can he bring you back to your parents because they’ll yell at you rather than take care of you, seeing that you’re not really suppose to be drinking yet. So he carries you back home bridal style, your purse clutched to your chest as you heave through your sobs.

—

He had thought that it was another night in New York where he would get to sleep peacefully without some man yelling in the street, but nope. When he had heard yelling, Bucky thought that he could’ve slept it off like he usually would. But not tonight as this yelling seemed too feminine and familiar to be the old man. So he checks outside his window, ready to flip off someone else tonight in order to achieve his rest.

What he didn’t expect was to see you yelling at his pathway, your hair tossled and middle fingers up in the air as you look up at his window with black stained cheeks. He watches for a moment, thinking that you’d probably go home after you drunken foolery but when your yelling turns to sobbing he worries.

It was New York City, he definitely wasn’t going to leave you alone in the streets where anyone could take you. So he rushes down the stairs, making the old wood creak and possibly wake his little sister up but that’s the least of his concern right now. He finds you still at his pathway, crying and muttering some incoherent words. Bucky tries to get you back to reality but you push him away, quite forcefully.

“No, fuck you.” You say and Bucky sees the way your face is flushed that you’re drunk. The cocktail dress your sporting and the black heels by your side gives it away. He knows that, that call you had made wasn’t sober you, and seeing that you’re resorting to underaged drinking makes it even sadder what he had done to you. So he tries to calm you down but you keep resisting; slapping away at his chest and he can sense the hurt in your protest.

Once you finally cave in, crying into his shirt, he carries you bridal style into his home where Rebecca is awake in the living room with wide eyes. He shakes his head at his sister, telling her that it’s not the time to reprimand him right now and so she watches her brother take the girl he’s hopelessly fallen in love back up stairs. She doesn’t worry because she knows her brother, he wouldn’t even dare touch a girl’s hair without her permission. So she lets him take her into his room.

Rebecca goes into her own room, drawers pulled out and a set of sleeping clothes set out on her bed to give to her brother.

“Here, for her.” She says, his head turning to her sister with a set of folded clothes in her arms.

He smiles briefly at her, thankful but not forgiving, and takes the set, setting them down on his bed beside her. “Be careful with her.” Rebecca warns his brother, just in case, because even if she despises you, she’s still your friend, one who doesn’t want to wish anything bad upon on you.

She leaves, the door open across from her room. And Bucky places you down on his bed. “No, don’t.” You cry to him and he looks at you, pleading.

“You have to change.” He says.

“I know. I’ll do it.” You say meekly, voice hoarse from crying and yelling at the man who sits in front of you. He nods and exits the room, closing the door behind him as he goes to the bathroom for the medicine cabinet. Popping a pill or two of Advil. Once he returns, he knocks on the door and you let out a groan. Bucky comes in, seeing you wipe the tears still running down your face.

“I’m sorry.” He tells you, placing the pill and bottle water on his bedside table.

You don’t respond to his apology but you say something else on your mind. “You hurt me.” It’s a whisper, what for? You don’t know. But it’s perhaps that you’re afraid of being vulnerable again with Bucky, seeing that he’s hurt you once, what’s there to stop him from doing it again?

“I know.” You scowl your face at him and notices. You hate that he responds with that because in your point of view, he hurt you like it was the easiest thing he’s done. He knew he was hurting you and chose to do it. So you give him disgust.

“I’m tired.” He nods because you’re not in the right state of mind to talk about this or to think of anything at all, so he’ll try again tomorrow where hopefully your much sober.

“Goodnight, Y/n.” He tells you and you flip him off, mutter something under your breath that he didn’t get. But Bucky chuckles to himself and finds himself sleeping in the guest room.

—

The room feels familiar, the scent of sandalwood and jasmine being inhaled through your nose. It feels familiar and it sends your eyes to flutter open, but it also awakens the ever growing headache. But you catch the picture frame on the bedside, a smile on a man’s face with a brunette beside him. To your surprise, there’s a bottled water and two pills of Advil sitting on the oak bedside table.

A poor yellow sticky note beside it and it reads: Take one or two for the headache :) Now it was definitely Bucky’s hand writing, seeing as the smiley face gave it away at the end. He always does that with every message.

You look around your surroundings, hoping that you didn’t fuck up and screw the man you hated but to your luck you were alone in the bed. Although, you checked under covers, in case you were naked and he just left bed to make breakfast. Again, you were fortunate enough to be clothed … but not in your own clothes.

They definitely do not fit like Bucky’s, his usually a size or two too big on you and would hang off your shoulder. Bucky claimed that you looked cute in it, all while kissing your exposed collarbones. No, in fact, they fit you perfectly. So it confused you why would you be in his bed wearing a perfect fitting pyjamas that is definitely not your ex’s clothing.

But your questions are answered when you hear loud thuds that’s could be heard from downstairs. You’re quick to down the pills with the water and snatching your clothes that sayrfolded neatly on top of Bucky’s dresser. All his rings sitting neatly in a plate.

You should’ve been more quite with your steps as when you arrive downstairs, all eyes and head turn to you. Rebecca’s hazel eyes still saturated with despite for you and while Bucky looked at you with softness and affection you haven’t seen in a while. “Good, you’re up.” Rebecca is the first one to break the silence, mindlessly going to swiping on her phone.

“Becca…” You hear Bucky’s voice rumble and it’s comforting to hear it in real life rather than in a stupid phone.

“What? She’s been sleeping for hours. It’s like lunch, now. It’s about time she got up.” His sister hisses and you feel the hate from her.

Bucky rolls his eyes at his devil of a sister and tries to make peace with you, offering you lunch. “Want some? We’ve got enough for everybody.” He smiles shyly, afraid that you may not be ready yet to talk to him.

You don’t answer and instead make your way out his front door. Bucky sighs, hoping that you wouldn’t be so stubborn and just talk to him about what happened last night. So he goes after you, watching you as you walk in the pavement barefoot.

“Y/n, please, come back in! We can have lunch!” He tried again with the food offering but it doesn’t work as your marching continues in the wet pavement, perhaps because of the light showers that happened previously.

He sighs because he knows that you’re mad, and he’s not sure what else he can do but apologize. “Y/n, come on.” He watches as you stomp into the direction of, not your home, but the park and so he follows you. “Y/n, please.”

His hand reaches for yours, the softness of his skin makes your heart drop and your stop in your tracks to turn to him. “Let go of me, Bucky.” You say sternly, a stoic look plastered on your face.

“Not until we talk about what happened yesterday.”

A scoff leaves your lips, the sound clashing with the soft thunder in the sky. “Now you wanna talk? Pathetic.” Snatching your hand back, you look at Bucky with fiery eyes, a look that he hasn’t seen on you once.

“Please, I just want to talk.” He’s practically begging at this point, the break in his voice making your stomach drop. Even with all the hate and anger you have for this man, you love him with all your heart. A mistake that’s clearly done on your part.

“What’s there to talk about? You left without telling me and basically cheated on me with your ex-wife.”

“I - I never knew that we were even in a relationship.” The words that leave his mouth makes you laugh, the feel of wetness hitting your cheeks and you can’t distinguish if it’s the rain that’s ready to fire hell on New York or if it’s the tears of heartbreak.

“You took me out on a date! We went to Joes!” You yell at him, the crack in your voice showing your true colours. “You held my hand, picked me up, and dropped me off from school, Bucky. I thought we were more than just a quick fuck.”

Bucky’s eyes drop with sadness, under circles prominent with the darkness under them. “I loved you.” You tell him, sadly and finally. After all these weeks, you’ve told him. And as he looks up at you with surprise, it had seem that he wasn’t the only one shocked by the revelation.

“You what?”

You don’t know what your wiping off your face as the rain falls down on both of your, coating your bodies in water. Yet, you’re thankful as the tears that leave your red eyes hides in the rain droplets. “Don’t make me repeat myself, James.” The use of his first name hurts him, you rarely use his first name now and when you do, it’s usually something serious.

“You love me? Please tell me that’s what I heard.” He takes a step forward, earning a step back from you and you see the genuine hurt that flashes through his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since that night in the pool. I thought it was so stupid to get attached, it was, seeing that I was just setting myself up to get hurt. But I thought it was just a stupid phase that’ll go away. It didn’t. And some part of me wished it did but I love you and I like that feeling, a lot, actually, but you’re really making it hard when you hurt me.” Bucky can tell now, he sees your red eyes and the break in your voice.

“I know you might think I’m some dumb teenager who’s confused about what I want. But I know what I feel. To the point where I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe, I can’t think, Bucky. You’re always on my mind and it hurts. You don’t love me and I can’t hate you for that but I can hate myself for loving you so easily.”

Bucky feels his own tears form, falling slowly with the rain that sits on his cold cheeks. “I didn’t know, Y/n. God, I feel like such an arrogant son of a bitch.”

For the first time in a while, you laugh at his words. “You are and it’s not even your fault.”

“But it is. It’s my fault, I was so blinded by something so superficial that I didn’t realize what was in front of me. You’re not just a quick fuck, Y/n. You never were. I hurt you out of my own guilt, something I should’ve never done.” He takes a step forward, careful to leave you space. But you don’t move back this time, letting him inch slowly toward you until you’re nearing inches in front of each other. He takes his hands and cups your cheeks, it’s warm compared to his own hands.

The flutter of your eyes closed has him pressing his forehead against yours. “Was she worth it?” You ask, the question opening the crack in your heart even more. He shakes his head but you want something tangible. “Was she worth it, Bucky? Please, I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t want to be the second option when things don’t go your way.” You burst into sobs, hands hitting his chest as you heave through cries.

“No, no, I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Bucky wraps his arms around you, an effort to hold you once more.

“Bucky, I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of this.” You try to explain through cries and you pull back. The confusion written all over his face by your words. “No, more. I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I can’t get hurt again, James. I’m sorry.”

Bucky feels like the air from his lungs were punched out. He feels like he’s floating and he doesn’t know how to comprehend your words. “Don’t say that. Don’t.” It’s when you pull away from his touch that hurts him the most. “Y/n, no. Please.”

With a shake of your head, you answer his pleas. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t think we can back to how it was.”

His hands finds it wrapped around yours. “But we can. We can try.”

“You promised to not hurt me once, you broke that promise. I don’t know. I can’t put myself in a situation like that again.” A step back and you find yourself taking more than one. And after a calculated decision, you answer him. “We’re over, James.”

Bucky never knew it was going to come to this. He never knew it was going to make you walk from him. The tears that fall from his face disguised as rain. He doesn’t care anymore. He feels broken. He feels disgusted. And he watches you walk away, he already misses you. It was his fault, everything. He wasn’t suppose to hurt you, it wasn’t suppose to be like this. He wanted to realize that reality of the situation but it only made it worse.

It only made him realize that he was so in love with Y/n it scared him to his own failure.

He wishes he can go back when he hadn’t listened to his sister, which despite her distaste towards you, he can’t blame her since she’s just looking out for him. But it pains him to look back at what he had done, not knowing that it would lead to his downfall. Now he has to suffer the consequences. Perhaps they were never mean to end up together, but they could’ve gone without the heartbreak.

Too late now, he suppose.

So he brings himself back to his home, drenched in rain and possibly wetting the floor. Rebecca watches as his brother enters back their home, reddened eyes and puffy cheeks. “Bucky?” She asks, concern on her face as she takes in her brother’s state.

“She’s gone. She left. She doesn’t want anything.” She frowns at her brother’s response, the ache in voice present as his heartache is. So she wraps an arm around him, comforting his hurt. She feels bad but it’s for the best. Either way, it was going to end in heartbreak.

“It was for the best, Bucky.” She says, whispering it softly. He shakes his head in her grip, crying out in his sister’s arms. “It’ll be fine.”

Bucky doesn’t entirely believe that anymore.

—

_The warmth of his bare skin contrasts against the coldness of your finger. Yet, he doesn’t seem to mind when they dance along his chest, bare and tanned as you lay your head on his beating heart; perhaps singing you to sleep. But sleep doesn’t hit your yet and you choose to lay with Bucky for the night. Not unusual anymore for the both of you to do after a night of love making._

_“Bucky?” He hums at your call and he looks down, your face staring back up at him. “What is it, my love?” Crimson cheeks become the spotlight on your face and Bucky notices, his hand caressing softly at your warmth skin._

_“You think about settling down one day?” Your question takes him back. It’s not what he expected and he turns to you, with your face genuine as you look back up at him._

_“What makes you say that?”_

_You simply shrug and the feeling of his hands on your hair lures you down to slumber, but you manage to keep your eyes from falling. “To be honest, I want to one day. It’s cliche, but I want to fall in love with someone, get married and have like one kid. It’s very domestic but it’s nice.” Your words makes him think for a moment. Though, your words were genuine, you do want to experience all those things, you just didn’t know with who._

_Bucky smiles down at you, your dreams making him smile. “I do, actually.” With hands intertwined, you nod against him and press a chaste against his chest._

_“You know I wished we could the normal things other people do in public. Like kiss or hold hands without getting disgusting looks.” A sigh escapes form your lips, sad and disappointed at the lack of PDA you can acquire when outside. You didn’t want to make out in public, you just want to simply hold his hand or kiss him on the cheek._

_“I know. Me too.”_

_You place a leg over him, straddling him under the sheets and you smile down at him; hands still intertwined. The sheets doesn’t even do their jobs on covering on your body, but you’re past that as Bucky doesn’t even bat an eye below your neck._

_“Promise me you won't care what they think.” Bucky smiles, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing soft crimson lips to your knuckles. "Promise you won't leave tonight."_

_“I promise.” You return a smile, heart beating out of your chest as you stare at him with more than affection. There's a moment of silence before you lean in, face hovering over his with noses touching. Then he's kissing you, full mouth and tongue. It's different than before, softer than before._

_He swallows your moans and whimpers when he kisses your body. Leaving you breathless with every thrust and movement under the blanket. Smiling back down at you when you gift him with a looped smile when your euphoria gets the best of you. Sleep soon taking over._

_With your face buried in his neck, he kisses your forehead. Smiling when he catches the way the sun rises and paints your pretty face. But his guilts hit him when he sneaks out of bed, making sure to not wake you from your slumber. You're still asleep as he sneaks his clothes back on, though, he doesn't fail to pull the blanket over your exposed body to protect you from the cold of the air conditioning._

_He smiles softly to himself, deciding to press one last kiss to your cheek before he returns back to his home. The broken promise of last night ringing in his head. Promise you won't leave tonight. But all he tells himself is that he'll see her again, hopefully._


End file.
